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JOHN  D.  WATTLES,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 


THE  KNIGHTLY  SOLDIER 


V  -*"• 


l^r 


THE 


KNIGHTLY  SOLDIER 


A  BIOGRAPHY 


OF 


MAJOR  HENRY  WARD  CAMP 


BY 

CHAPLAIN  H.  CLAY  TRUMBULL 


NEW  AND  REVISED  EDITION 


PHILADELPHIA 

JOHN  D.  WATTLES,  PUBLISHER 
1892 


COPYRIGHT,  1865, 
BY  NICHOLS  &  NOYES. 

COPYRIGHT,  1892, 
BY  H.  CLAY  TRUMBULL. 


£ 


CI1 


TO  THE  PARENTS 

TO  WHOSE  FAITH  AND  FAITHFULNESS 
HENRY  WARD  CAMP 

OWED  THE  QUALITIES  OF  A   "  KNIGHTLY  SOLDIER  " 
THIS 

TRIBUTE  TO  HIS  MEMORY 

IS    DEDICATED 

BY  HIS  FRIEND 


Vlll  PREFACE. 

graphic  power.  His  biographer  was  his  intimate 
friend,  and  his  close  companion  in  camp,  in  field,  and 
in  prison.  In  these  respects  the  book  is  unique  among 
the  personal  stories  of  the  war.  So  clearly  was  this 
recognized  by  the  reading  public  generally,  that  its 
sixth  edition  appeared  with  the  special  endorsement  of 
the  governors  of  all  the  New  England  states,  and  of 
fifteen  prominent  college  presidents,  East  and  West. 
And  the  Rev.  Dr.  Bushnell  then  expressed  his  con- 
viction that  the  book  would  be  even  better  known  fifty 
years  from  then  than  at  that  time;  because,  as  the  war 
receded  into  the  past,  only  its  best  representative  books 
would  survive  the  mass  of  less  important  war  literature. 
It  is  in  view  of  this  record  of  its  earlier  success  that 
the  book  is  again  given  to  the  public,  in  response  to 
repeated  requests  for  its  reappearance. 

One  thing  which  was  emphasized  in  its  first  Pref- 
ace may  properly  receive  fresh  mention  here.  The 
relations  between  the  author  and  the  subject  of  this 
volume  were  of  peculiar  and  rarest  intimacy.  The 
union  of  the  two,  during  the  years  chiefly  considered 
in  this  record,  approached  complete  oneness.  To 
have  left  out  all  the  references  to  Henry  Camp's  friend, 
of  whom  almost  every  page  in  his  later  writings  made 
mention,  would  have  been  impossible  without  destroy- 
ing the  fulness  and  coherence  of  the  narrative,  and 
distorting  the  picture  of  army  life  to  the  eyes  of  those 
familiar  with  the  seldom  equaled  attachment  of  the 
friends  to  each  other.  Very  much  of  this  nature  was 


PREFACE. 


IX 


stricken  from  the  record, — all,  indeed,  that  could  be 
with  seeming  propriety.  It  is  hoped  that  what  re- 
mains will  be  ascribed  to  the  affectionate  partiality 
of  him  who  has  fallen,  and  not  to  any  want  of  good 
taste  on  the  part  of  one  who  was  loved  by  and  who 
mourns  him. 


PHILADELPHIA, 

Decoration  Day,  1892. 


CHAPTER  I. 

CHILDHOOD  AND  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

Personal  Character  in  the  American  Civil  War. — An  Illus- 
trative Story.  —  A  Representative  Student  Soldier. — 
Henry  Camp's  Parentage  and  Boyhood.  —  Inherited 
Qualities.  —  Sensitive  Conscience.  —  Child  Sermons. — 
Beginnings  in  Sunday-school. — High -school  Expe- 
riences.— His  Teacher's  Estimate. — A  Year  at  Home. — 
Enters  Yale. — Confesses  Christ.— Dr.  Bushnell's  Trib- 
ute.— The  Man-soul  in  the  Child. — Hero-life  and  Angel- 
life. — A  High  Future  still 


CHAPTER   II. 

COLLEGE  LIFE. 

College  Athletics. — Boating. — University  Races  of  1859. — 
Reflex  Influence  of  a  Hard  Struggle. — A  Ring  Won 
and  Worn. — Yale  and  Harvard  Oarsmen  in  the  Army. 
— Chaplain  Twich ell's  Sketch  of  the  Worcester  Re- 
gatta.— "A  Perfect  Man." — Severe  Training.  —  Sol- 
dierly Ways. — First  Day's  Race. —  Defeat. —  Comfort 
from  "No.  3." — Contagious  Courage. — Second  Day's 
Race. — Victory. —  Rejoicings. — Sequel. — Testimony  of 
College  Comrades. — An  Unbelieving  Classmate  Led  to 

xi 


Xll  CONTENTS. 

Christ.  —  Christian  Fidelity  Recognized.  —  Character- 
istics and  Conduct.  —  A  Kingly  Heart.  —  A  Blessed 
Memory 12 


CHAPTER  III. 

TEACHER,  LAW  STUDENT,  SOLDIER. 

Teaching  at  East  Hartford. — Rising  War-clouds. — Voting 
Intelligently. — Standing  for  Principle. — Studying  Law. 
—  Denying  Self  in  not  Enlisting. — Joining  the  City 
Guard. — Funeral  of  General  Lyon. — Commissioned  in 
the  Tenth  Regiment. — Farewell  Speech  at  his  Sunday- 
school. — Joying  in  Prospect  of  Service. — Joins  his  Com- 
mand at  Annapolis. — Open-air  Prayer-meeting. — Camp 
Varieties. — A  Christmas  Gift. — Foster's  Brigade. — The 
Burnside  Expedition. — Life  on  a  Transport. — Purity  in 
all  Things. — Trials  on  the  "  Swash." — A  Pull  for  Life. — 
A  Fair  Face  and  a  Brave  Heart 34 


CHAPTER   IV. 

ROANOKE  AND  NEW-BERNE. 

Advance  up  Pamlico  Sound. — Generals  Worth  Seeing. — 
The  Night  before  the  Fight. — Personal  Feelings. — Bat- 
tle of  Roanoke  Island.  —  The  First  Wounded.  —  On 
Special  Duty. —  Crying  a  Cry  Out. — Victory  and  its 
Cost. — Again  on  Transports. — Kerosene  Water. — En- 
ergetic Cockroaches. — Courage  in  Dark  Days. — Patri- 
otism and  Chivalry. — Sunset  at  Sea. — Poetic  Musing. 
—  Landing  and  Bivouacking. —  The  Battle  of  New- 
Berne. —  Sensations  under  Fire. — Another  Victory. — 
The  City  Entered. — Guard  Duty. — Sympathy  with  En- 
listed Men. — Picket-life.— An  Alarm. — Bold  Scouting. 


CONTENTS.  xiii 

Contentment  in  Action. — Love  of  Home. — Volunteering 
for  Special  Service. — Living  to  a  Purpose. — Compara- 
tive Casualties,  East  and  West 47 


CHAPTER  V. 

CAMP  LIFE  AND  CAMPAIGNING. 

Incidents  among  the  Contrabands. — Fugitives  at  the  Picket- 
line. — "  Dey  Sell  Ebry  One." — Inside  View  of  Slavery. 
— Praying  for  Liberty.  —  Fighting  for  Government. — 
Religious  Counsel  to  a  Classmate. — Life  in  Hospital. — 
Rumors  of  a  Move. — New  Brigade. — Captain  Vicars's 
Memoir.  —  Longings  for  a  Friend. — Promotion. — The 
Adjutant's  First  "Consolidated." — A  New  Chaplain. — 
The  Two  Friends. — Forty-fourth  Massachusetts. — Tar- 
borough  Scout. — Evening  Skirmish  at  Little  Creek. — 
Halt  at  Williamston. — Song  from  the  Jack  Tars. — Patri- 
otism Thawed  Out. — Foraging. — Home  Relics  Protect- 
ed.— A  Southern  Swamp. — John  Brown  Chorus. — Way- 
side Prayer. — First  Visit  Home. — Goldsborough  Raid. 
— A  New  Disappointment. — Fredericksburg  Failure  .  74 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  FIRST  CHARLESTON  EXPEDITION. 

New  Expedition. — Sail  to  Port  Royal. — Department  of  the 
South. — Camp  at  St.  Helena. — Battalion  Drill. — Sun- 
day-school Work. — Oriental  Scenery. — "The  Twins." 
— Wine  and  Cards. —  Seabrook  Island. — A  Thrilling 
Advance. — An  Evening  Skirmish. — Camping  in  the 
Rain. — Scouting. — First  Attack  on  Charleston. — Chaf- 
ing at  Inaction. — Outpost  Life. — Mammoth  Mosquitoes. 
— Prayer-meeting  in  the  Woods. — Another  Separation. 


XIV  CONTENTS. 

—Lack  of  Oxygen.— Work  for  Christ. — College  Mates. 
— Excursions.  —  Beauties  of  the  Seabrook  Place. — An 
Exciting  Reconnoissance. — Again  under  Fire. — Dodg- 
ing Bullets. — Artillery  Duel. —  Enjoyable  Excitement 
of  Danger.  —  Commander  Rodgers.  —  Court  -  martial 
Service  .  102 


CHAPTER  VII. 

JAMES  ISLAND  AND  FORT  WAGNER. 

A  New  Campaign. — Chowder-party. — Orders  for  a  Move. — 
Prayer -meeting  on  Shipboard. — Landing  at  James 
Island. — Watching  Distant  Battle. — An  Evening  Ad- 
vance.— Bewilderment  on  Picket. — More  Mosquitoes. 
— Thoughtful  Tenderness. — Second  Battle  of  James 
Island. — Attack  on  the  Pawnee. — Taking  to  the  Woods. 
— Captain  Rockwell's  Battery. — Colonel  Shaw's  (Fifty- 
fourth  Massachusetts)  Regiment. — To  Morris  Island. — 
Grand  Bombardment. — Assault  on  Wagner. — Night 
Battle  Scene. — General  Gillmore. —  Stopping  Strag- 
glers.— A  Wail  of  Agony. — Defeat. — The  Morning  after 
Battle. — Flag  of  Truce. — Unfair  Capture. — Prisoners. — 
Fort  Sumter.— Charleston  Jail 127 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

PRISON  LIFE  AND  ESCAPE. 

Prison  Sensations. — The  Friends  Separated. — Gloomy  Fore- 
bodings.— From  Charleston  to  Columbia. — Affectionate 
Letter. — Reunion  in  Jail. — Prison  Occupations. — "  De 
Mates."— Thought  Ruled  Out.— The  Chaplain  Re- 
leased.— Sabbath  Evening  Reflections. — Columbia  and 
Hartford. — Longings  for  Liberty. — Plan  of  Escape. — 


CONTENTS.  XV 

Outfit.  —  Parched  Corn.  —  Lay-figures.  —  Moments  of 
Waiting.  —  Captain  Chamberlain.  —  Ivanhoe  in  the 
Kitchen. — Corporal  "Bull  Head." — Captain  Senn. — 
Nervous  Work. — Out  and  Off. — Joy  in  Freedom. — 
Trestle -walking. —  Refreshing  Sleep. — Fear  of  Detec- 
tion.— A  Long  Way  Round. — Rain  and  Darkness. — 
Spectral  Ox-team. — Blind  Guide-posts. — A  Wet  Lodg- 
ing.— The  Lazy  Farmer. — Kindness  to  Animals. — Fire 
on  the  Hillside. — Freshet. — A  Lost  Day. — Terror  to 
Small  Boys.— A  December  Bath.— Cheerless  Waken- 
ings.— Sabbath  of  Hope. — An  Unwelcome  Attendant. — 
Discovered. — Prisoners  Once  More. — Child's  Opinion 
of  Yankees.— Politics.— Soldiers'  Graves.— A  Well- 
laden  Table  well  Cleared. — Gathering  Broom-straw. — 
Soft  Pillow.— Tied  to  the  Saddle.— Slip  'twixt  Cup  and 
Lip. — Chesterville  Jail. — Yankee  Menagerie. — A  New 
Jailer.  —  Attempted  Conversion. — Worth  of  a  Good 
Mother. —  Whittling.  —  Lost  Brother.  —  Pepper  Wash 
after  a  Flogging. — Genuine  Rebels. — Again  in  Colum- 
bia.— Close  Confinement. — Satisfaction  in  Effort. — Box 
from  Home. — Grateful  Acknowledgments  ...  149 


CHAPTER  IX. 

LIBBY  PRISON,  CAMP  PAROLE,  HOME. 

The  Regiment  in  Florida. — Fears  lest  it  should  Fight. — No 
Rest  in  Prison. — Exchange  Rumors. — Egg-gatherers  of 
the  Orkneys. —  New  Escape  Plans. — Tunneling. — Dis- 
covery. —  Removal  to  Richmond.  —  Ride  through 
Rebeldom. — A  Night  at  Petersburg. — Three  Hundred 
Dollars  for  a  Hack. — Life  at  the  Libby. — Baked  Mice. 
— Amateur  Cooking. —  Opening  Boxes. —  Dead-lights. 
— "  Boat  Up  !  " — Reading  the  Exchange  List. — Hamp, 
or  Camp. — Sensations  of  Liberty. — Stewart  Nos.  i  and  2. 


XVI  CONTENTS. 

— Leaving  the  Libby. — Sick  Privates. — The  Old  Flag. 
— The  Regiment  Moves  Northward. — Meeting  of  the 
Friends. — A  Week  at  Annapolis. — Privileges  of  Free- 
dom.— The  Tenth  at  the  Front. — Camp  at  Home. — 
Unselfish  Anxiety 197 


CHAPTER  X. 

CAMPAIGNING  WITH  THE  ARMY  OF  THE  JAMES. 

Paroled  Prisoners  Exchanged. — A  Hasty  Leave. — Work  of 
the  Regiment. —  The  Friends  Reunited. — Ride  to  the 
Front. — Evidences  of  Disaster. — Search  for  a  Corps. — 
Glad  Greetings  in  Battle. — Covering  a  Retreat. — Flying 
Artillery. — Calculating  an  Aim. — A  Long  Campaign. — 
A  Good  Correspondent. — Love  of  Home. — From  Pray- 
ing to  Fighting. — Picket  Skirmish. — A  Night  of  Peril. — 
Explosive  Bullets. -^-Volleys  Preferred  to  Sharpshoot- 
ing.  —  Bermuda  Hundred  Works. — Major  Trumbull's 
Battery. — Dread  of  Inaction. — Sounds  from  Cold  Har- 
bor.—  Picket-duty.  —  Danger  on  the  Vedette  Line. — 
Sociable  Pickets.  —  Night  Evacuation.  —  Listening  for 
Life.  —  Exciting  Advance.  —  Capture  of  Prisoners. — 
Hewlett's  Redoubt. — Fired  at  by  Friends. — The  White 
Flag. — Another  Retreat  Covered. — Letter-writing  under 
Difficulties. —  Severe  Shelling. — Moment  of  Expecta- 
tion.— Attack  Repulsed. — Rare  Descriptive  Powers  .  210 


CHAPTER  XI. 

NORTH  OF  THE  JAMES. 

Crossing  the  James. — Establishing  Pickets  by  Night. — Co- 
lumbia Acquaintances.  —  A  Hot  Breakfast. —  Hair- 
breadth Escapes.— Torrid  Days. — Stormy  Nights. — Nar- 


CONTENTS.  Xvii 

row  Escape.  —  Uniform  Cheerfulness.  —  Strawberry 
Plains. — In  Reserve. — Dangers  of  the  Rear. — Exposed 
Picket-line. — Anxious  Night. — Busy  Morning. — Second 
Corps  Advance. — A  Check. — The  Straw-hat  Hero. — 
Successful  Flanking. — Indian  Warfare. — Capture  of  a 
Deserter.  —  A  Military  Execution.  —  Forward  Move- 
ment.— A  Week's  Hard  Fighting. — Lost  in  the  Woods. 
— Brandishing  Watermelon. — Falling  Back. — Attacked 
while  Retiring. — Staying  a  Panic. — Casualties  in  the 
Tenth. — Night  March  and  Countermarch 239 

CHAPTER  XII. 

IN  THE  PETERSBURG  TRENCHES. 

Colonel  Plaisted  again  in  Command. — Move  from  Deep 
Bottom. — Night-marching. — At  the  Appomattox  Pon- 
toon.— A  Rainy  Bivouac. — Petersburg  in  Sight. — De- 
serted Negro-camp. — Burrowing  for  Quarters. — Danger- 
ous Dining-place. — Mortar-shelling  by  Night. — Deadly 
Fascination. — Weeks  of  Peril. — Sharpshooting  in  the 
Trenches. — Courageous  Coffee-bearer. — A  Narrow  Es- 
cape.—Ricochet  Shot. — Presence  of  Death.— Incidents 
of  Picketing.— Wounded  Vedette.— Sociability  of  Ene- 
mies.—  More  Sharpshooting. — A  Miss  as  Good  as  a 
Mile.— Rejoicing  over  Atlanta. — Shotted  Salutes.— Rail- 
road Target.— Longings  for  Rest. — Promotion.— With- 
drawal from  Trenches. — Halt  at  the  Rear 271 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

LIFE  AND  DEATH   BEFORE  RICHMOND. 

From  Petersburg  to  Deep  Bottom.— Tedious  March.— 
Gloomy  Day-dawn.— Battle  of  New  Market  Heights. — 
General  Terry's  Approach  to  Richmond.— Days  of  Ac- 


XV111  CONTENTS. 

tivity  and  Privation. — Laurel  Hill  Skirmish. — Happy 
Prisoner. — Frightened  Women. — Captured  Unionist. — 
The  Treasured  Flag. — Expired  Enlistments. — Flag  of 
Truce. — Wayside  Prayer-meeting. — A  Morning  Attack. 
— Signs  of  Retreat. — General  Kautz's  Flank  Turned. — 
Crash  of  Battle. — The  Wounded  Skirmisher. — Flying 
Infantry. — Flanked  but  not  Frightened. — Victory  Won. 
—  Even  Terms.  —  Seen  through  the  Clouds.  —  New 
Movement. — Out  and  in  Again.- — Last  Night  of  Life. — 
The  Death  -  morning.  —  Darbytown  Road.  —  Brilliant 
Scene. — Battle  Opening. — Preparing  for  an  Assault. — 
Thanking  God  in  Peril. — "  Good-by."— Deadly  Race.— 
The  Final  Charge. — "  I  do  Believe." — The  Death-shot. 
—Last  Look  at  the  Flag.— Left  on  the  Field.— Flag  of 
Truce. — Recovery  of  Body.-;— Generous  Enemy  .  .  .  286 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

MEMORIAL  TRIBUTES. 

Sad  Journey  Homeward. — Funeral  Services. — Official  Testi- 
mony of  Colonel  John  L.  Otis. — Tribute  of  General 
Joseph  R.  Hawley— of  Mr.  E.  G.  H olden  —  of  Mr. 
Charles  Dudley  Warner — of  his  Law  Instructor — of  his 
Brigade  Commander. — A  Noble  Record. — Its  Glorious 
Close. — Yale  Commemorative  Celebration. — Dr.  Bush- 
nell's  Oration. — "Young  Lycidas." — Enduring  Record 
by  Hartford  Citizens. — A  Matchless  Knight. — Portrait 
in  Yale's  Alumni  Hall 309 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Portrait  of  Major  Henry  W.  Camp Frontispiece 

FULL -PAGE  WOODCUTS.  OPPOSITE 

PAGE 
Camp  of  Tenth  Connecticut  Regiment,  at  Annapolis. 

From  pencil  sketch  by  H.  W.  Camp 42 

Richland  Jail,  Columbia,  S.  C.,  from  the  Yard.  From 

pencil  sketch  by  H.  W.  Camp 161 

Officers'  Quarters  in  Richland  Jail.  From  pencil  sketch 

by  H.  W.  Camp 194 

Earthworks  across  Darbytown  Road  near  Richmond, 

Va.    From  pencil  sketch  by  H .  Clay  Trumbull   .     .     .  300 

ILLUSTRATIVE  HEAD  AND  TAIL  PIECES. 

PAGE 

Badge  of  Ninth  Army  Corps 47 

Double-Turret  Monitor 102 

Sea  Face  of  Fort  Wagner 1 27 

Charleston  Jail 149 

Libby  Prison 197 

Badges  of  Tenth  and  Eighteenth  Army  Corps 210 

Pontoon  Bridge  across  the  James  River 239 

In  the  Petersburg  Trenches 271 

Monument  to  Major  Camp,  in  Cedar  Hill  Cemetery,  Hart- 
ford, Conn 323 

xix 


CHAPTER  I. 

CHILDHOOD  AND  SCHOOL-DAYS. 

EVER  was  there  a  great  conflict  in  which 
personal  character  exhibited  itself  more 
nobly  in  heroic  daring  and  in  tireless 
endurance,  than  in  the  American  Civil 
War  of  1 86 1  to  1865.  The  best  men  of 
the  North  and  the  South  were  in  that 
conflict.  Impelled  by  high  principle  they  gave  their 
whole  selves  to  a  life-and-death  struggle  in  behalf  of 
that  which,  as  they  saw  it,  was  worth  living  and  dying 
for.  And  for  their  living  and  dying  their  country  and 
their  race  are  the  better. 

History  makes  prominent  the  personality  and  ser- 
vices of  the  great  leaders  in  that  struggle  ;  but  history 
does  not  note  the  story  of  representative  individuals 
out  of  the  great  host  of  those  who  never  rose  to  high 
command,  but  who  by  their  character  and  work  made 
the  great  achievements  of  the  greatest  commanders  a 
possibility.  Yet  it  is  only  in  the  understanding  of  the 
personality  and  services  of  such  men  as  these  that  the 


2  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

great  conflict  itself  can  be  fully  understood,  or  the 
forces  which  operated  for  its  conclusion  can  be  rightly 
estimated. 

The  young  soldier  whose  story  is  here  told  can 
fairly  be  taken  as  a  representative  of  the  best  class  of 
Christian  men  of  education  and  refinement  who  kept 
step  to  the  music  of  the  Union,  in  following  the  flag 
of  their  country  through  the  vicissitudes  of  the  Civil 
War,  until  the  need  or  the  possibility  of  their  march- 
ing and  fighting  was  at  an  end.  Although  only  a 
subaltern  until  within  a  few  weeks  of  his  death,  and 
at  no  time  having  a  higher  position  than  that  of  a 
regimental  field-officer,  he  had  an  experience  in  cam- 
paigning and  battles  that  transcended  the  service  of 
veterans  in  the  principal  European  wars  of  this  genera- 
tion. His  personality,  as  well  as  his  service,  was  of 
exceptional  note.  From  childhood  he  impressed  those 
who  knew  him  for  his  moral  beauty,  his  intellectual 
power,  and  his  commanding  personal  presence,  "  as  a 
splendid  specimen  of  a  physical,  intellectual,  and  Chris- 
tian man;"  and  at  his  death  his  regimental  com- 
mander affirmed  that  "the  service  never  suffered  a 
heavier  loss  in  an  officer  of  his  grade,"  while  the  com- 
mander of  his  brigade  said,  "  Our  cause  cannot  boast 
a  nobler  martyr." 

Henry  Ward  Camp  was  born  at  Hartford,  Connecti- 
cut, February  4,  1839.  His  father,  the  Rev.  Henry  B. 
Camp,  was  at  that  time  a  professor  in  the  American 


INHERITED    QUALITIES.  3 

Asylum  for  the  Deaf  and  Dumb;  having  been,  in  the 
earlier  years  of  his  ministry,  pastor  of  the  Congrega- 
tional Church  at  North  Branford,  Connecticut.  His 
mother,  Cornelia  L.  Baldwin,  was  a  woman  of  ex- 
ceptional vigor  of  mind  and  tenderness  of  heart ;  while 
his  father  was  of  a  peculiarly  retiring  disposition, 
although  not  wanting  in  strength  of  personal  char- 
acter. From  his  parents  young  Camp  inherited  those 
qualities  of  mind  and  heart  that  showed  themselves  in 
his  rare  combination  of  gentle  and  unbending  firmness, 
and  of  shrinking  modesty  coupled  with  moral  fearless- 
ness, of  almost  feminine  sweetness  of  spirit,  and  mas- 
culine courage  and  determination.  And  to  the  wise 
training  and  the  Christian  faithfulness  of  his  parents 
he  was  indebted  for  the  full  development  of  these 
inherited  traits  in  their  most  delightful  symmetry. 

Unusually  gentle  and  retiring,  even  for  a  child,  he 
shunned  the  boisterous  companionship  of  city  boys, 
and  clung  to  his  home,  contented  with  its  quiet  occu- 
pations, and  satisfied  in  its  enjoyments.  He  learned 
to  read  almost  unaided,  and  from  four  years  of  age  he 
found  his  chief  enjoyment  in  books.  His  love  of  read- 
ing was  so  great,  that,  after  he  had  devoured  all  the 
children's  books  in  the  house,  he  resorted  to  those  far 
beyond  his  years.  He  gained  an  excellent  knowledge 
of  history  before  taking  it  up  as  a  study,  and  was 
always  fond  of  books  of  travel.  Too  close  devotion 
to  reading,  with  too  little  outdoor  exercise,  began  to 
affect  his  head  seriously ;  and  he  was  so  troubled  by 


4  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

somnambulism  that,  during  his  eighth  year,  he  was 
sent  to  Durham,  Connecticut,  to  spend  some  time  with 
his  grandfather  on  a  farm,  where  books  were  entirely 
.forbidden  him.  This  rest  to  his  brain,  with  the  exer- 
cise and  other  advantages  of  country  life,  quite  re- 
established his  health ;  and,  after  a  few  months,  he 
returned  reinvigorated  to  his  home. 

An  early  observed  peculiarity  of  young  Camp's 
character  was  the  exquisite  sensitiveness  of  his  con- 
science, amounting  almost  to  a  morbid  dread  of  trans- 
gression. He  shrank  from  every  appearance  of  evil, 
and  was  oppressed  by  a  fear  of  doing  wrong.  When 
he  was  five  years  old,  a  sister  was  born  to  him.  As 
he  first  looked  at  the  baby  treasure  with  childish  joy 
and  wonderment,  a  shade  of  thought  came  over  his 
face,  and  he  went  alone  from  his  mother's  room.  On 
his  return  his  mother  asked  him  where  he  had  been. 
"  I've  been,  mama,"  he  said,  "  to  pray  to  God  that  I 
may  never  hurt  the  soul  of  dear  little  sister."  And 
this  incident  is  in  keeping  with  his  whole  course  in 
boyhood. 

At  six  years  of  age  he  exercised  himself  in  writing 
a  little  book  of  sermons,  taking  a  text,  and  making  on 
it  brief  comments  as  striking  and  original  as  the  em- 
ployment was  unique  for  a  boy  of  his  years.  In  look- 
ing over  the  manuscript,  his  good  mother  observed 
frequent  blanks  where  the  name  of  God  should  appear. 
Inquiring  the  reason  of  these  omissions,  Henry  in- 
formed her  that  he  had  feared  he  was  not  feeling  just 


BEGINNINGS    IN    SUNDAY-SCHOOL.  5 

right  while  he  was  writing,  and,  lest  he  should  take 
the  name  of  God  in  vain  by  using  it  then,  he  had  left 
the  blanks  in  its  stead.  The  strictest  letter  of  the 
Jewish  law  could  scarcely  exact  more  reverent  use  of 
the  ineffable  name  of  Jehovah  than  was  demanded  by 
the  tender  conscience  of  this  pure-minded  boy*. 

This  fear  of  transgressing  induced  habits  of  self- 
examination  and  introspection  which  gave  the  boy  no 
little  discomfort.  His  rigid  scrutiny  of  motive  and 
purpose,  with  his  discriminating  review  of  each  out- 
ward act,  revealed  to  him  such  imperfections  of  thought 
or  deed  that  he  sometimes  suffered  keenly  from  his 
merciless  self-reproaches.  His  earliest  Sunday-school 
teacher  was  Mrs.  Roswell  Brown,  the  veteran  principal 
of  the  infant  class  in  the  Sunday-school  of  the  Center 
Church  in  Hartford,  of  which  Dr.  Joel  Hawes  was  then 
pastor.  In  one  of  his  little  notes  to  her,  young  Camp 
said,  with  his  characteristic  sensitiveness,  "  I  am  some- 
times afraid  I  shall  love  you  better  than  I  do  my 
mother.  I  don't  think  I  do,  but  I  am  afraid  I  shall." 
"  Mrs.  Brown,"  he  said,  one  Sunday  morning,  as  he 
took  his  place  by  her  side,  "  I  am  afraid  I  did  wrong 
last  Sunday.  While  you  were  talking  to  us  all,  I  wrote 
my  sister  Cornelia's  name  with  my  finger  on  the  seat. 
I  didn't  think  it  was  wrong  then  ;  but  I've  thought  it 
was,  since,  and  I've  wanted  to  tell  you  of  it."  No 
misdeed  of  his  during  four  years'  stay  in  that  infant- 
class  was  greater  than  the  one  thus  candidly  confessed. 
That  teacher  says  of  him,  with  warmth,  "  I  had  nearly 


6  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

four  hundred  and  fifty  children  under  my  care  in  that 
room,  but  never  but  one  Henry  Camp." 

Yet,  in  spite  of  his  quickly  reminding  and  often  - 
accusing  conscience,  young  Camp  was  of  cheerful  tem- 
perament, and  he  richly  enjoyed  life.  His  refined  and 
always*  unselfish  sensitiveness  made  him  only  more 
considerate  of  others,  and  he  was  the  light  of  a  happy 
home  even  while  his  chief  enjoyment  was  found  in  the 
family  circle.  No  laugh  was  more  merry  than  his, 
and  no  one  did  more  than  he  to  provoke  a  merry  and 
timely  laugh. 

With  the  exception  of  a  few  weeks  at  the  district 
school,  he  studied  at  home  until  he  was  ten  years  old. 
Then  he  entered  the  Hartford  Public  High  School, 
which  he  attended  for  six  years.  It  was  there  that  he 
first  mingled  actively  with  his  fellows.  Although  he 
did  not  seek  to  lead,  he  found  himself  ahead.  His 
comrades  looked  up  to  him.  In  the  recitation-room, 
the  playground,  and  the  gymnasium,  he  was  a  pattern. 
Loving  outdoor  sports  and  athletic  exercises,  he  prac- 
ticed and  strengthened  his  muscular  powers  until  his 
form  and  figure  were  a  type  of  his  compacted  and 
well-rounded  intellectual  development. 

"There  was  a  charm  about  him  even  then,  which 
attracted  all  who  knew  him,"  says  Mr.  S.  M.  Capron, 
one  of  his  high-school  teachers.  "  I  never  had  a 
pupil  who  possessed  a  purer  character,  or  more  com- 
pletely won  the  respect,  and  even  admiration,  of  his 
teachers.  He  despised  everything  mean,  everything 


ENTERING    COLLEGE.  / 

vulgar;  and  his  generosity  and  manliness  in  his  inter- 
course with  other  boys  made  him  a  general  favorite 
among  them.  He  was  remarkably  truthful  also,  and 
this  never  from  a  fear  of  consequences,  but  with  a 
spontaneity  which  showed  that  truth  was  at  the  founda- 
tion of  his  character.  As  a  scholar  he  was  very  faith- 
ful, accurate,  and  prompt  in  his  recitations ;  especially 
copious  and  rich  in  his  choice  of  words;  of  superior 
talent  as  a  writer.  No  one  stood  above  him  in  his 
class ;  and  he  took  some  prizes,  while  in  the  school, 
for  English  composition  and  other  exercises.  But  it 
was  chiefly  his  uncommon  nobleness  of  character 
which  made  him  conspicuous  then,  as  in  later 
years." 

In  the  summer  of  1855,  Camp  passed  an  examina- 
tion for  admission  to  Yale  as  a  Freshman.  But  as  he 
was  yet  only  sixteen,  and  had  been  so  long  in  seldom 
intermitted  study,  his  judicious  parents  strongly  ad- 
vised his  waiting  another  year  before  entering  on  his 
collegiate  course.  The  disappointment  to  him  was 
severe;  yet  he  yielded  gracefully,  as  always,  to  the 
judgment  of  his  parents,  and  for  a  twelvemonth  occu- 
pied himself  in  outdoor  exercise,  in  attention  to  pencil- 
sketching,  and  in  the  study  of  French  and  German. 
He  joined  the  Freshman  Class  of  Yale  in  September, 
1856.  Then  commenced  his  life  away  from  the  home 
he  had  so  dearly  loved,  and  in  the  possession  of  which 
he  had  been  so  favored.  Then,  first,  he  was  obliged 
to  forgo  the  privilege  of  speaking  in  all  freedom  of 


8  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

rhe  experiences  of  each  day  to  those  whose  sympathy 
and  affection  were  not  to  be  doubted. 

It  was  not  long  after  he  entered  college,  that  he 
sought  a  new  tie  with  his  loved  ones  at  home,  in  a 
public  recognition  of  the  tie  that  bound  them  all  to  a 
common  Saviour,  by  making  an  open  confession  of 
his  faith  in  that  Saviour.  It  was  during  his  spring 
vacation,  in  1857,  that  he  connected  himself  with  the 
North  Congregational  Church,  at  Hartford,  of  which 
his  parents  were  then  members,  under  the  pastorate 
of  the  eminent  Dr.  Horace  Bushneil. 

That  good  pastor  writes  with  enthusiasm  of  this 
young  parishioner,  as  he  knew  him  from  childhood  to 
the  close  of  his  life : 

"  It  was  my  privilege  to  know  this  young  patriot 
and  soldier  from  his  childhood  up.  The  freshly  vigor- 
ous, wonderfully  lustrous,  unsoiled  look  he  bore  in 
his  childhood,  made  it  consciously  a  kind  of  pleasure 
to  pass  him,  or  catch  the  sight  of  his  face  in  the  street. 
I  do  not  recall  ever  having  had  such  an  impression, 
or  one  so  captivating  for  its  moral  beauty,  from  any 
other  child.  And  it  was  just  as  great  a  satisfaction 
to  see  him  grow  as  it  was  to  see  him.  I  used  to  watch 
the  progress  of  his  lengthening  form  as  I  passed  him, 
saying  inwardly  still,  'Well,  thank  God,  it  is  the  beauti- 
ful childhood  that  is  growing,  and  not  he  that  is  out- 
growing his  childhood/ 

"The  noble  man-soul  was  evident  enough  in  the 
child,  and  when  it  was  bodied  forth  in  his  tall,  mas- 


DR.    BUSHNELLS    TRIBUTE.  9 

sive,  especially  manly  person,  it  was  scarcely  more  so. 
Indeed,  the  real  man  of  the  child  was  never  bodied 
forth,  and  never  could  be,  without  a  history  of  many 
years,  such  as  we  fondly  hoped  for  him,  but  shall 
never  behold.  He  died,  in  fact,  with  his  high,  bright 
future  shut  up  in  him, — it  will  only  come  out  among 
the  angels  of  God;  and,  I  doubt  not,  will  make  a 
really  grand  figure  there.  Seldom  have  they  hailed 
the  advent  among  them,  I  think,  of  a  youth  whose 
kinship,  and  peership  and  hero-life  begun,  they  will 
more  gladly  acknowledge.  Indeed,  I  have  never  been 
able  to  keep  it  out  of  my  mind,  since  I  first  heard  of 
his  death,  that  there  was  some  too  great  aptness  in 
him  for  a  place  among  these  couriers  and  squadrons 
of  glory.  It  seems  to  be  a  kind  of  extravagance  to 
say  this,  but  I  know  not  how  otherwise  to  describe 
real  impressions.  He  was  such  a  man  as,  going  into 
a  crowd  of  strangers,  would  not  only  attract  general 
attention  by  his  person,  by  his  noble  figure  and  the  fine 
classic  cut  of  his  features,  by  the  cool,  clear  beaming 
of  his  intelligence,  by  the  visible  repose  of  his  justice, 
by  a  certain,  almost  superlative  sweetness  of  modesty; 
but  there  was,  above  all,  an  impression  of  intense 
PURITY  in  his  looks,  that  is  almost  never  seen  among 
men,  and  which  everybody  must  and  would  distinctly 
feel. 

"  But  I  am  only  describing  here  what  others  felt  as 
truly  as  I,  and  could  describe,  if  they  would,  much 
better  than  I ;  though,  perhaps,  the  acquaintance  I 


IO  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

had  with  Henry's  interiorly  personal  character  and 
struggles  in  the  matter  of  religion  may  have  prepared 
me  to  note  more  distinctly  than  some  others  would 
the  signs  outwardly  appearing.  He  came  to  me  a 
great  many  times,  from  his  early  childhood  onward, 
to  lay  open  his  troubles,  and  obtain  spiritual  direction. 
My  conviction,  from  the  very  first,  was,  that  I  had 
nothing  to  do  with  him  but  to  put  him  in  courage, 
and  enable  him  to  say,  'I  believe.'  I  never  saw  him 
when  I  did  not  think  he  was  a  Christian,  and  I  do  not 
believe  that  he  ever  saw  himself  early  enough  to 
properly  think  otherwise.  Still,  he  did  think  other- 
wise much  longer  than  I  wished.  The  difficulty  was 
to  get  him  away  from  the  tyranny  of  his  conscience. 
It  was  so  delicate  and  stedfast  and  strong,  that  his 
faith  could  not  get  foothold  to  stand.  I  feared  many 
times  that  he  was  going  to  be  preyed  upon  all  his  life 
long  by  a  morbid  conscience.  Still  there  was  a  manly 
force  visible,  even  in  his  childhood;  and  I  contrived, 
in  what  ways  I  could,  to  get  that  kindled  by  a  free 
inspiration.  To  get  him  under  impulse,  afterwards, 
for  the  war,  was  not  half  as  difficult, — all  the  less 
difficult  that  the  point  of  my  endeavor  was  already 
carried  ;  for,  having  now  become  the  soldier  of  Christ, 
by  a  clear  and  conscious  devotion,  he  had  only  to 
extend  that  soldiership  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven's 
sake. 

"As   far   as   he   was    concerned,  the   kingdom   of 
heaven  was  not  worsted  when  he  fell ;  but  the  loss  to 


DISAPPOINTMENT    AND    HOPE. 


II 


his  country  and  his  comrades  in  arms  was  certainly 
great,  greater  than  most  of  us  will  know.  Besides,  it 
is  a  great  and  sore  disappointment  to  us  all,  that  we 
are  cut  off  abruptly  from  that  noble  and  high  future 
we  had  begun  to  hope  for  him.  Let  us  believe  that 
he  can  have  as  high  a  future  where  he  is,  and  resign 
him  gladly  to  it !  " 


CHAPTER  II. 


COLLEGE  LIFE. 

>IS  outdoor  life,  with  its  active  exercise,  in 
his  year  of  waiting  to  enter  college,  had 
prepared  young  Camp  for  an  active  inter- 
est in  college  athletics,  and  his  fine  phy- 
sique and  bounding  health  made  him  a 
man  of  mark  in  that  sphere.  Boating  was  his  special 
delight,  and  in  his  Junior  year  he  was  a  member  of 
the  University  crew  that  represented  Yale  at  the 
Worcester  regatta,  in  July,  1859. 

That  regatta  was  an  era  in  his  life,  and  its  influence 
was  important  in  shaping  his  whole  future  course.  In 
it  he  first  realized  the  keen  enjoyment  of  exciting 
endeavor,  and  attained  the  satisfaction  of  accomplish- 
ing something,  through  the  straining  of  every  nerve 
in  a  contest  with  his  fellows,  while  stayed  by  the  con- 
sciousness that  he  held  the  honor  of  those  whom  he 
loved  in  his  keeping.  He  gave  himself  up  to  the 
struggle,  both  in  preparation  and  performance,  with 
his  whole  heart  and  soul,  and  seemed  to  secure  thereby 

a  relish  and  a  fitness  for  such  work  as  that  to  which  he 
12 


YALE    AND    HARVARD    BOATING    MEN.  13 

was  subsequently  called  for  his  country.  A  ring  made 
from  the  gold  of  the  regatta  prize,  he  wore  to  the  last, 
— refusing  to  part  with  it,  even  at  an  extravagant  price, 
when  most  pinched  for  the  comforts  of  life  in  a 
Southern  prison;  and  it  was  finally  drawn  from  his 
finger  by  an  enemy,  when  he  lay  in  death  on  the  field 
of  his  last  battle. 

The  Yale  and  the  Harvard  crews  in  the  Worcester 
races  of '59  were: 

Yale.  Harvard. 

H.  S.  Johnson  (stroke),  C.  Crowninshield  (stroke). 

Charles  T.  Stanton,  Jr.  W.  H.  Forbes. 

Henry  W.  Camp.  E.  G.  Abbott. 

Joseph  H.  Twichell.  H.  S.  Russell. 

Charles  H.  Owen.  J.  H.  Wales. 

Frederick  H.  Cotton.  J.  H.  Ellison  (bow). 
Hezekiah  Watkins  (cockswain). 

It  is  a  noteworthy  fact,  that  every  man  of  the  Yale 
crew,  and  a  majority  of  those  from  Harvard,  were 
subsequently  in  the  Union  army. 

Of  Johnson,  Camp  wrote,  when  he  met  him  in  North 
Carolina  on  the  staff  of  General  Ferry :  "  He  is  an 
aide,  ranking  as  lieutenant, — very  nice  little  position, 
— left  the  signal  corps  some  time  since  to  take  it. 
Signaling,  he  didn't  like  at  aH,  —  no  fighting, — slim 
business, — at  it  through  the  whole  Peninsular  cam- 
paign, and  was  heartily  sick  of  it.  At  Fair  Oaks,  he 
volunteered  on  some  general's  staff,  and  went  in — 
lively  time — horse  shot  under  him.  That  was  more 
like  it."  Stanton,  as  captain  in  the  Twenty-first  Con- 


14  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

necticut  Regiment,  was  wounded  at  Drewry's  Bluff. 
He  was  subsequently  commissioned  lieutenant-colonel, 
but  was  mustered  out  in  consequence  of  the  severity 
of  his  wound.  Owen,  Camp's  early  playmate,  school- 
fellow, and  always  attached  friend,  was  in  the  First 
Connecticut  Heavy  Artillery,  and  later  on  the  staff  of 
General  Robert  O.  Tyler,  receiving  at  Cold  Harbor  a 
wound,  the  effects  of  which  he  must  carry  to  his  grave. 
The  stalwart  arms  of  Stanton  and  Owen  were  often 
admired  by  enthusiastic  boatmen  in  the  days  of  col- 
lege racing.  The  right  arm  of  Stanton  and  the  left 
of  Owen  dropped  powerless  by  their  sides  in  the  same 
good  service  for  their  country.  For  three  years, 
Twichell  filled  with  rare  usefulness  and  acceptance 
the  chaplaincy  of  the  Second  Regiment  in  General 
Daniel  E.  Sickles's  Excelsior  Brigade,  of  New  York. 
Colton,  as  an  army  surgeon,  had  Owen  under  his  skil- 
ful charge  at  the  Douglass  Hospital,  in  Washington. 
Watkins  fought  nobly  as  colonel  of  the  One  Hundred 
and  Forty-third  New  York  Regiment.  Crowninshield 
and  Forbes  are,  at  the  writing  of  this,  colonel  and 
lieutenant-colonel  of  the  Second  Massachusetts  Cav- 
alry, the  former  command  of  the  lamented  General 
Lowell.  Abbott  fell  at  Cedar  Mountain,  while  Rus- 
sell, going  out  a  captain  in  the  Second  Massachusetts 
Infantry,  returned  the  colonel  of  a  colored  cavalry 
regiment.  A  noble  record  of  noble  men  ! 

The  story  of  the  Worcester  regatta,  and  of  Henry 
Camp's  part  in  it,  can  best  be  told  in  the  words  of 


TWICHELL'S  STORY  OF  THE  REGATTA.  15 

brave  and  hearty  "  Joe  Twichell,"  who  pulled  an  oar  in 
the  Yale  boat,  and  who  was,  like  Camp,  a  soldier  of 
Christ  and  of  country  in  the  nation's  life-struggle. 

"  In  looking  back  to  Henry  Camp,  as  I  knew  him  in 
college,  it  is  impossible  not  to  recall  his  singular 
physical  beauty.  The  memory  of  it  harmonizes  very 
pleasantly  with  the  memory  of  his  beautiful  daily  life. 
Each  became  the  other  so  well,  while  they  were  joined, 
that,  though  now  his  body  has  gone  to  dust,  I  find, 
while  musing  on  my  friend,  an  unusual  delight  in  con- 
tinuing to  associate  them.  He  furnishes  a  perfect 
example  of  the  truth, '  Virtus  pulchrior  e  pulchro  corpore 
veniensj  His  handsome  face,  his  manly  bearing,  and 
his  glorious  strength,  made  that  rare  gentleness  and 
goodness  which  won  our  love  the  more  illustrious.  I 
well  remember,  while  in  college,  riding  out  one  day 
with  a  classmate  of  his,  and  passing  him,  as,  erect  and 
light  of  foot,  he  strode  lustily  up  a  long  hill,  and  the 
enthusiasm  with  which  my  comrade  pronounced  this 
eulogy,  'There's  Henry  Camp,  a  perfect  man,  who 
never  did  anything  to  hurt  his  body  or  his  soul ! ' 
That  was  before  I  knew  him  well ;  for,  as  I  have  inti- 
mated, we  were  not  in  the  same  class :  but  what  I 
heard  and  saw,  made  me  so  desirous  of  a  better  ac- 
quaintance, that  when,  in  the  summer  of '59,  our  crew 
was  made  up  for  the  college  regatta,  to  take  place  at 
Worcester,  and  it  fell  out  that  he  was  assigned  to  duty 
in  the  boat,  as  No.  3,  while  I  was  No.  4,  I  was  more 
than  pleased. 


1 6  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

"The  six  weeks  of  training  that  followed,  culminat- 
ing in  the  grand  contest,  witnessed  by  far  the  greater 
part  of  all  our  personal  intercourse,  for  after  that  time 
our  paths  diverged.  That  was  the  last  term  of  my 
senior  year,  and  the  end  was  not  far  off.  We  parted 
on  Commencement  Day ;  and  though  I  afterward  heard 
from  him,  especially  of  the  fame  of  his  soldiership,  and 
hoped  to  see  him,  we  met  again  no  more  than  once  or 
twice.  But,  at  the  distance  of  five  eventful  years,  the 
news  of  his  death  struck  me  with  a  sense  of  my  be- 
reavement, so  deep  and  painful,  that,  looking  back  to 
those  six  weeks,  I  could  not  realize  that  they  were 
nearly  all  I  had  intimately  shared  with  him.  Nor  am 
I  alone  in  this :  I  know  of  others,  whose  private 
memories  of  Henry  Camp,  as  limited  as  mine,  stir  in 
their  hearts,  at  every  thought  of  his  grave,  the  true 
lament,  '  Alas,  my  brother ! ' 

"During  the  training  season  of  which  I  speak,  the 
crew  had,  of  course,  very  much  in  common.  We  ate 
at  the  same  table,  and  took  our  exercise  at  the  same 
hours  ;  so  passing  considerable  part  of  every  day 
together,  besides  the  time  we  sat  at  our  oars.  Our 
hopes  and  fears  were  one,  our  ardor  burned  in  one 
flame ;  we  used  even  to  dream  almost  the  same  dreams. 
The  coming  regatta  was  our  ever-present  stimulus. 
To  win, — there  was  nothing  higher  in  the  world.  It 
quickens  the  pulse  even  now  to  remember  how  splendid 
success  then  appeared. 

"  Camp  gave  himself  up  to  the  work  in  hand  with 


TRAINING    FOR   THE    RACE.  I/ 

that  same  enthusiasm  of  devotion  that  carried  him  to 
the  forefront  of  battle  on  the  day  of  his  glorious  death. 
He  was  always  prompt,  always  making  sport  of  dis- 
comforts, always  taking  upon  himself  more  than  his 
own  share  of  the  hard  things.  Severe  training  in  mid- 
summer is  something  more  than  a  pastime.  It  abounds 
in  both  tortures  of  the  body,  and  exasperations  of 
mind,  as  all  boating  men  bear  witness.  Under  them, 
not  all  of  us,  at  all  times,  kept  our  patience;  but  Camp 
never  lost  his.  Not  a  whit  behind  the  best  in  spirit 
and  in  zeal,  he  maintained  under  all  circumstances  a 
serenity  that  seemed  absolutely  above  the  reach  of 
disturbing  causes.  The  long,  early  morning  walk 
into  the  country,  the  merciless  rigors  of  diet,  the  thirst 
but  half  slaked,  the  toil  of  the  gymnasium,  the  weary 
miles  down  the  Bay,  under  the  cockswain's  despotism, 
the  return  to  childhood's  bed-time,  and  other  attendant 
afflictions,  often  outweighed  the  philosophy  of  all  but 
No.  3.  He  remained  tranquil,  and  diligently  obeyed 
all  the  rules  ;  serving  as  a  sort  of  balance-wheel  among 
us,  neutralizing  our  variableness,  and  making  many  a 
rough  place  smooth.  He  had  a  presence, — almost 
the  happiest  I  ever  saw,  and  a  temper  that  betrayed 
no  shady  side.  He  carried  all  his  grace  with  him 
everywhere,  and  had  a  way  of  shedding  it  on  every 
minute  of  an  hour, — no  less  on  little  matters  than  on 
great, — that  gave  his  company  an  abiding  charm,  and 
his  influence  a  constant  working  power;  and  so  he 
went  on  working  with  all  his  might  for  the  college, 


1 8  THE   KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

doing  us  good  daily,  gaining  that  skill  and  muscle 
which  afterward  enabled  him  to  pull  so  brave  an  oar 
through  the  stormy  waves  of  Hatteras. 

"  He  had  soldierly  ways  about  him  then.  Discipline 
was  his  delight,  and  coolness  never  deserted  him.  We 
were  upset  one  day,  in  deep  water,  under  a  bridge; 
and,  at  first,  each  struck  out  for  land,  till  Camp,  re- 
maining in  mid-stream,  called  us  back  to  look  after 
the  boat,  which  was  too  frail  a  structure  to  be  left  to 
chance  floating.  That  Hatteras  exploit,  when  we 
heard  of  it,  did  not  seem  at  all  strange.  It  was  just 
like  him  to  volunteer,  and  still  more  like  him  to  be 
the  last  man  to  give  up  what  was  undertaken. 

"At  last  the  day  came, — the  day  big  with  fate, 
dreaded,  yet  longed  for.  Noon  of  July  26  found  us 
sitting  in  our  good  boat,  'Yale/  on  the  beautiful  Lake 
Quinsigamond,  near  Worcester,  ready,  at  the  starting 
goal,  for  the  signal  to  '  give  way.'  The  waters  of  the 
lake  glittered  and  dimpled  under  the  summer  sky,  as 
if  mocking  our  deep  cares  with  levity.  Each  grasped 
his  oar,  and,  though  it  was  a  vain  attempt,  tried  to  be 
calm.  A  mile  and  a  half  away  up  between  the  woody 
banks  fluttered  the  white  flag  that  marked  the  turning- 
goal.  Beside  us  was  the  '  Harvard  '  and  her  splendid 
crew,  gentlemanly  fellows,  whom  we  had  liked  at 
sight.  There  was  also  in  the  line  a  boat  from  Brown 
University,  with  a  son  of  Adoniram  Judson  at  one  of 
the  oars.  The  grace  of  generosity  presides  most 
happily  over  those  congresses  of  youth,  and  keeps  out 


THE   FIRST    DAYS    RACE.  ig 

bitterness  from  their  rivalries, — or  did,  at  least,  in  our 
day.  Many  thousands  of  spectators  clustered  on 
either  shore,  among  whom  were  hundreds  of  college 
men,  all  eager  and  emulous,  but  with  no  stirring  of  bad 
blood.  But  the  bustle  of  the  crowd  did  not  reach  us 
as  we  sat  watching  the  slow  preliminaries  of  the  judges 
and  umpire.  We  only  heard  the  music  of  the  bands, 
which  then  seemed  a  call  to  battle, — almost  as  much 
so  as  the  terrible  bugles  that  nearly  all  of  us  were 
destined  yet  to  hear.  At  last  the  suspense  was  ended. 
The  first  signal  gun  sent  its  sharp  echo  to  the  neigh- 
boring hills,  —  'Ready  to  give  way!'  Every  oar 
quivered  in  its  place.  A  second  gun,  whose  echoes 
we  did  not  hear, — '  Give  way  all ! ' — and  we  were  off. 

"  In  twenty  minutes,  the  first  day's  race  was  over. 
All  the  college-boating  world  knows  we  were  beaten  in 
it,  and  that,  at  evening,  Harvard  bore  into  Worcester, 
with  songs  and  shouting,  the  colors  that  pertained 
to  victory.  We  shook  hands  all  round, —  the  two 
crews, — and  tried  to  appear  to  take  it  easy  on  both 
sides,  though  it  was  not,  of  course,  exactly  in  the  same 
mood  that  we  returned  to  our  quarters,  and  our  friends 
to  theirs.  But  Yale  was  used  'to  it,  and  so  was  Har- 
vard. It  was  the  old  thing  over  again  :  the  Fortune 
that  prospers  oars  was  too  coy  to  be  propitiated  by 
us.  Yet  we  had  hoped  for  a  change :  undoubtedly 
we  had  expected  it.  Then  was  Henry  Camp  a  refresh- 
ment to  us.  He  had  done  his  best,  he  was  disap- 
pointed ;  but  he  radiated  a  quiet  resignation  that  was 


2O  ^        THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

contagious.  It  was  a  comfort  to  talk  with  No.  3  that 
night. 

"The  next  day  there  was  to  be  another  regatta 
given  by  the  city  of  Worcester,  open  to  all  comers. 
The  Harvard  men  had  signified  their  willingness  to 
try  it  again  with  us ;  but  we  were  not  immediately  of 
one  mind,  and  did  not  jump  at  the  offer.  Worthy  as 
our  rivals  were,  it  was  not  pleasant  being  beaten  by 
them;  nor  was  the  desperate  work  of  a  three-mile 
race,  at  mid-day,  in  July,  to  be  coveted  for  itself:  yet 
it  gave  us  and  Alma  Mater  one  more  chance,  and  that 
was  not  lightly  to  be  thrown  away.  Camp's  counsel 
was  unhesitating  and  spirited.  He  was  for  re-entering 
the  lists  from  the  first  instant  it  was  proposed;  and  so 
it  came  to  pass,  that  we  took  heart  of  grace :  and  noon 
of  the  morrow  found  us  again  on  the  lake,  grasping 
our  oars  and  waiting  the  signal. 

"This  time  there  was  no  boat  against  us  but  the 
'Harvard.'  An  accident  early  in  the  first  race  had 
disabled  the  representative  of  Brown,  and  she  was 
withdrawn,  not  to  appear  again.  The  same  fair  multi- 
tude, shining  in  bright  summer  attire,  was  gathered  to 
witness  the  scene.  Signs  of  the  previous  day's  event 
were  not  wanting.  On  land  and  water,  the  Harvard 
head  was  high,  as  was  not  unmeet;  but  our  fellows 
among  the  crowd  observed  a  modest  demeanor,  and 
we  in  the  boat  were  not  disposed  to  vaunt  ourselves. 
We  hoped,  however,  to  make  at  least  a  closer  affair  of 
it  than  the  other  was. 


THE   SECOND    DAY'S    RACE.  21 

"  Once  more  we  were  off  with  a  mighty  clamor  from 
the  shore,  each  boat  struggling  for  the  lead.  'Yale' 
won  it.  None  but  a  boating  man  knows  the  glorious 
excitement — excitement  without  wildness — that  then 
leaped  through  our  arms  into  the  oars.  Henry  .Camp 
himself  afterward  said  that  his  first  battle  did  not  sur- 
pass it.  Everything  went  well  with  us,  and  we  reached 
the  mile-and-a-half  goal  four  good  lengths  ahead;  but 
the  *  Harvard '  made  a  splendid  turn,  and  we  darted 
away  on  the  home  stretch,  almost  bow  and  bow.  The 
fortune  of  the  day  trembled  in  even  balances :  less 
than  ten  minutes  would  decide  it.  '  Pull ! '  cried  our 
cockswain,  as  if  for  his  life ;  and  we  heard  the  Harvard 
stroke  inspiring  his  fellows  with  brave  words.  Then 
came  the  hot,  momentous  work, — the  literal  agony. 
Those  twelve  men  will  never  forget  it,  though  it  is 
doubtful  if  any  can  or  could  recall  it  in  detail,  minute 
by  minute,  short  as  it  was.  There  is  an  indistinctness 
about  it  in  my  memory  at  least;  and  the  last  half-mile 
is  especially  cloudy.  It  would  not  be  easy  to  describe 
it.  Most  accounts  of  boat-races,  like  that  in  'Tom 
Brown  at  Oxford,'  are  from  the  standpoint  of  a  looker- 
on,  rather  than  an  actor.  The  real  tragedy  is  in  the 
boat. 

"The  near  neighborhood  of  the  other  contestant, 
not  so  much  seen  as  felt ;  the  occasional  sidewise 
gleam  of  red  from  the  handkerchiefs  the  Harvard  men 
wore  about  their  heads ;  the  burning  exhortations  of 
the  cockswain,  gradually  rising  in  pitch  of  intensity, 


22  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

and  settling  at  last  upon  the  formula,  '  Pull,  if  you 
die  ! '  the  pain  of  continued  utmost  exertion  ;  the  vari- 
ous mental  phenomena,  some  of  which  were  strange 
enough;  and,  as  we  neared  the  goal,  the  vociferous 
greetings  of  the  first  little  groups  of  spectators, — a 
vague  sound  in  the  ears,  we  scarcely  thought  what  it 
was,  except  a  sweet  token  of  the  end  at  hand ;  then,  a 
little  farther  on,  the  cry  of  the  great  multitude,  neutral- 
ized as  a  distraction  by  the  cockswain's  deepening  pas- 
sion ;  the  order  to  quicken  the  stroke,  the  final  '  spurt ; ' 
— all  these  remain  indelible  impressions  of  that  frag- 
ment of  an  hour  in  1859;  but,  like  the  impressions  that 
survive  a  stormy  dream,  they  are  not  orderly  or  clear. 
"  I  doubt  if  any  one  remembers  the  command  to 
stop.  For  a  minute  or  two,  there  was  utter  collapse. 
Each  bowed  upon  his  oar,  with  every  sense  suspended 
through  exhaustion :  but,  thanks  to  the  training,  one 
after  another  revived,  and  sat  upright,  and  blessed 
himself;  for  all  knew,  though  rather  confusedly,  that 
we  had  done  well  in  entering  that  race.  To  our  looks 
of  inquiry,  the  cockswain,  whose  thunder-bolts  had 
suddenly  dissolved  in  sunshine,  made  this  sufficient 
reply, '  We've  got  'em  ! '  It  had  come  at  last !  Hurrah, 
hurrah  for  Yale  !  We  wanted  the  voice  of  ten  thou- 
sand wherewith  to  vent  our  hearts,  and  the  shore 
supplied  it.  We  looked  around:  the  'Harvard 'was 
slowly  making  for  the  land.  To  us  it  was  permitted 
by  custom  to  go  before  the  spectators,  and  receive 
their  congratulations.  As,  with  easy  oar,  we  pulled 


THE   JOY   OF   VICTORY.  23 

our  proud  boat  along  either  border  of  the  lake,  the 
applause  that  rose  in  a  great  wave  to  meet  us  was 
probably  the  sweetest  taste  of  glory  our  lives  will  have  t 
afforded.  In  our  young  eyes,  nothing  could  be  more 
magnificent  than  our  victory;  and  it  seemed  like  an 
old  Olympic  triumph. 

"When  we  landed,  the  Cambridge  crew,  though 
their  philosophy  was  much  more  grievously  taxed 
than  was  ours  the  day  before,  gave  us  honest  hands 
and  made  us  handsome  speeches,  to  which  we  properly 
responded,  or  at  least  wished  we  could.  Altogether, 
they  took  defeat  in  such  a  manly  way,  that  we  felt 
very  anxious  to  refrain  from  all  victorious  airs  in  their 
presence,  and  to  conduct  ourselves  with  the  utmost 
magnanimity. 

"The  telegraph  soon  sent  the  news  home  to  Alma 
Mater,  and  that  night  there  was  jubilee  in  New  Haven; 
but  all  of  us,  save  the  cockswain,  abode  in  Worcester 
till  the  next  morning.  Then  the  Harvard  men  went 
north,  and  the  Yale  men  south,  and  fair  Quinsigamond 
was  vacant  of  college  keels  for  another  year.  It  was 
Commencement  Day ;  and,  returning  crowned,  we  were 
welcomed  under  the  elms  in  a  manner  peculiar  to  col- 
legians :  but  from  that  hour  our  close  alliance  was 
broken.  Two  or  three  went  down  to  put  up  the  boat; 
but  the  six  never  sat  together  again. 

"  It  is  pleasant  now  to  see,  that  through  those  youth- 
ful rivalries,  useful  as  they  were  in  themselves,  God 
was  raising  up  strength  for  nobler  work  than  we  pro- 


24  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

posed  or  could  imagine.  As  we  stretched  away  at 
our  practice  down  the  Bay,  we  never  thought  of  war, 
or  battle,  or  the  great  service  of  liberty  that  would 
soon  call  for  thews  of  hardy  men.  Looking  back  to 
those  warm  afternoons  when  we  used  to  disembark  for 
a  respite,  and  sit  upon  the  ruined  wall  of  old  Fort 
Hale,  and  wonder  how  it  seemed  in  those  early  days 
when  Yalensians  were  called  out  from  college  halls  to 
fight  in  the  field,  I  cannot  realize  that  then  and  now 
are  less  than  six  years  apart. 

"Strange  things  have  happened  since.  The  voice 
of  the  cockswain  has  been  heard  at  the  head  of  his 
regiment  on  many  a  bloody  field.  The  stroke  has 
followed  the  flag  ever  since  the  fall  of  Sumter,  and 
came  very  near  death  on  the  Peninsula.  The  iron 
right  arm  of  No.  2  is  maimed  for  life  by  a  shot  through 
the  elbow.  No.  5  will  likewise  carry  to  his  grave  the 
weakness  of  a  wound.  But  No.  3  fell,  and  lay  dead. 
Can  it  be  ?  can  it  be  ?  This  is  strangest  of  all.  Yet 
it  is  not,  perhaps,  altogether  strange  that  a  sacrifice  so 
fair  and  so  truly  consecrated  should  prove  acceptable 
to  God,  and  be  consumed.  There  is  comfort  for  our 

grief. 

'Our  Knights  are  dust; 
Their  good  swords  rust ; 
Their  souls  are  with  the  saints,  we  trust.'  " 

Yale  College  did  much  for  Henry  Camp,  and  he 
was  never  unmindful  of  the  fact.  He  was  graduated 


COLLEGE    ESTIMATES.  25 

with  high  honors  in  July,  1860,  but  he  could  never 
feel  that  his  graduation  severed  his  connection  with 
his  college  home.  He  loved  always  to  tell  of,  and  to 
think  over,  his  experiences  there ;  and  he  watched  with 
hearty  interest  the  subsequent  career  of  his  classmates. 
Most  warmly  he  greeted  any  of  these  whom  he  en- 
countered in  army  service ;  and,  even  while  a  prisoner 
within  the  enemy's  lines,  he  acknowledged  an  existing 
bond  between  himself  and  each  son  of  his  Alma  Mater 
seen  there.  Only  a  few  months  before  his  death  he 
remarked  that  the  only  public  sentiment  to  which  he 
was  ever  keenly  sensitive  was  that  of  college.  His 
extreme  modesty  prevented  his  ever  dreaming  how 
highly  he  was  esteemed,  and  how  warmly  he  was  be- 
loved, by  his  fellow-students. 

The  valedictorian  of  his  class  writes  of  him  : 

"  I  had  profound  respect  and  admiration  for  him  as 
a  classmate.  He  was  frank,  wise,  clear  and  pure 
minded,  changeless  in  friendship.  We  his  classmates 
feel  deeply  the  diminution  of  mental  and  moral  power 
suffered  in  his  loss.  The  sum  total  of  the  class  is  less 
by  a  vast  amount.  As  a  positive  power,  as  a  man,  as 
a  friend,  we  esteemed  him  highly.  I  almost  envy  you 
the  task  of  delineating  the  character  of  one  so  pure, 
noble,  and  manly.  It  is  a  priceless  remembrance,  the 
friendship  of  such  a  man." 

Says  another  classmate : 

"A  character  so  noble,  a  life  so  pure,  a  heart  so 
warm  with  kind  impulses,  and  a  manner  replete  with 


26  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

the  gentle  courtesies  of  friendship,  could  not  fail  to 
win  the  love  and  esteem  of  us  all." 

Yet  another,  who  knew  him  well,  adds : 

"  I  dare  say  he  had  faults ;  but  I  never  saw  them. 
I  know  of  nothing  in  his  life  I  would  correct." 

As  showing  the  power  of  his  Christian  example 
during  his  college  course,  one  who  sat  by  his  side  in 
the  chapel  and  at  recitation  gives  this  narration : 

"On  entering  college,  I  was  wholly  without  hope 
and  without  God  in  the  world.  I  was  beyond  the 
reach  of  any  power  except  the  power  of  Jesus.  I  do 
not  know  whether  I  believed  the  Bible  or  not  I  did 
not  hesitate  to  ridicule  such  parts  of  it  as  my  inclina- 
tions, urged  on  by  such  a  state,  prompted.  I  could  sit 
in  a  prayer-meeting  in  the  revival  of '58,  when  nearly 
all  my  classmates  were  giving  testimony  of  the  power 
of  God  to  send  hope  and  peace  to  despairing  souls, 
wholly  unmoved.  I  could  even  smile  at  the  emotions 
there  expressed.  Camp  was  my  companion  through 
college  more  than  any  other  member  of  the  class.  He 
was  by  my  side  at  recitation  and  in  the  chapel  during 
the  entire  four  years.  I  saw  in  him  a  character  and  a 
life  I  had  never  seen  before.  By  his  life  I  was  forced 
to  admit  that  his  profession  was  per  se  no  libel  on  the 
Master  in  whose  service  he  was. 

"  I  do  not  recollect  what  part  of  our  college  life  it 
was  when  he  first  spoke  to  me  on  the  subject  of  my 
soul's  salvation.  It  was  not,  however,  till  after  his  up- 
right and  godly  life  had  forced  from  me  the  most  pro- 


PERSONAL    INFLUENCE.  2/ 

found  respect  for  him  and  the  Saviour  to  whom  he 
prayed.  He  said  very  little ;  but  he  said  enough  to 
lead  me  to  think  over  my  past  life,  and  to  cast  a  glance 
at  the  future.  I  shall  never  forget  the  impression  that 
first  conversation  had  upon  my  mind.  It  was  not  so 
much  what  he  said,  as  the  way  he  said  it.  He  be- 
lieved he  was  setting  forth  God's  truth,  and  spoke  as 
if  he  knew  it  was  so.  I  believed  that  he  knew  it  was 
true,  though  unable  to  explain  how  he  became  con- 
scious of  it.  This  I  pondered,  and  felt  that  he  had 
evidences  that  had  been  withheld  from  me.  He  spoke 
with  me  only  a  few  times  on  this  wise,  but  every  time 
with  telling  effect.  I  could  not  help  thinking  of  it ; 
and  after  we  were  parted,  and  I  had  lost  his  com- 
panionship, I  made  his  thoughts  the  companions  of 
my  lonely  hours.  I  began  to  love  him  more  than 
ever,  and  with  love  for  him  grew  the  love  of  the  same 
Lord  whom  he  loved  and  served.  The  conflict  to  me 
was  a  severe  one;  and  how  I  longed  to  meet  him,  and 
converse  with  him ! 

"Passing  through  New  Haven  when  first  on  his 
way  to  his  regiment,  he  left  on  my  table  a  line  to  this 
effect:  — 

'  DEAR  B. : 

Sorry  to  have  missed  seeing  you. 

Good-by,  God  bless  you ! 

HENRY  W.  CAMP.' 

"I  would  have  given  a  fortune  to  have  seen  him  for 
an  hour !  I  had  not  at  that  time  revealed  my  feelings 


28  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

to  any  one,  and  felt  that  he  alone  was  fit  to  receive 
them.  I  wrote  to  him,  and  his  letters  supplied  in  part 
the  loss  I  felt.  Not  a  day  since  we  parted,  I  venture 
to  say,  has  he  not  been  in  my  mind.  I  cannot  but 
feel  that  he  was  the  instrument  chosen  of  God  to  un- 
veil the  darkness  that  shut  out  the  light  from  my  soul. 
I  fear  that,  had  I  never  known  him,  I  had  never  known 
the  love  of  God,  nor  welcomed  the  glad  enjoyment  of 
a  Christian  experience." 

His  classmate  E.  G.  Holden  thus  sums  up  the  col- 
lege estimate  of  Camp  : 

"Those  who  were  members  of  the  class  which 
graduated  at  Yale  College,  in  the  year  1860,  can  bear 
ample  testimony  to  that  earnest  Christian  manhood, 
that  sincere  and  faithful  performance  of  every  duty, 
that  quiet,  simple,  childlike  assertion  of  purity  of  mind, 
that  magnanimity  and  generosity,  and  that  courtesy 
of  manner,  which  made  Henry  Camp  a  hero  at  every 
period  and  every  position  of  his  life. 

"The  influence  which  he  exerted  in  the  class  by 
this  moral  force  was  most  wonderful,  and  none  the  less 
so  because  he  was  totally  unconscious  of  its  existence. 
He  wielded  his  scepter  without  displaying  it,  and 
(except  that  he  knew  on  general  principles  that  sin- 
cerity of  purpose  always  asserts  its  prerogatives)  with- 
out knowing  that  he  held  the  scepter.  He  was  not, 
at  least  until  his  Senior  year,  what  is  called  a  'popular' 
man.  While  invariably  and  impulsively  a  gentleman, 


CHARACTER   AND    LIFE.  2Q 

and  demonstratively  kind  in  his  demeanor  toward 
every  person  he  had  to  do  with,  his  intimacies  were 
few.  Not  only  were  his  natural  sensitiveness  and 
retiring  disposition  an  obstacle  to  a  free  general  ac- 
quaintance, but  his  intensity  of  feeling  was  doubtless 
gratified  by  concentrating  his  friendship  on  a  few 
chosen  companions.  And  yet  without  exertion,  and 
by  the  unpretending  grandeur  of  his  character,  he  won 
not  only  the  respect,  but  the  profound  love,  of  his 
classmates,  to  an  extent  of  which  he  had  no  idea. 
His  conscientiousness  was  never  intrusive.  No  one 
dreamed  of  his  being  a  paragon,  any  more  than  they 
dreamed  of  his  being  inconsistent,  not  with  his  pro- 
fessions (for  he  never  made  any),  but  with  his  former 
invariable  practice.  'To  know  him  once  and  under 
any  circumstances/  says  an  intimate  friend,  'was  to 
know  him  always;  for  he  was  always  the  same.' 

"  He  was  not  a  pretentious  scholar.  His  recitations 
were  not  characterized  by  a  flashing  repetition  of  the 
text,  perhaps  not  always  by  a  quick  perception  of  the 
meaning,  but  invariably  by  a  quiet  self-possession  that 
was  evidently  founded  on  a  thorough,  profound,  and 
solid  comprehension  of  what  he  had  been  studying, 
whether  it  had  been  acquired  by  an  intuitive  knowl- 
edge, or  by  close  and  energetic  application.  Although 
occupying  a  fine  position  on  the  list  of  honors,  he 
might  have  stood  much  higher  had  he  not  deliberately 
chosen  partially  to  devote  himself  to  other  things 
which  he  deemed  equally  useful.  Books  outside  of 


3<D  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

the  prescribed  course  of  study,  chess,  the  gymnasium, 
and  boating,  occupied  a  part  of  his  time  and  attention. 
Into  all  these  exercises  he  threw  that  same  earnest, 
hearty,  untiring  energy  which  he  gave  to  everything 
else.  Whether  in  laying  his  plans  for  an  inevitable 
checkmate  upon  his  antagonist,  or  whether  laboring  at 
his  oar  after  the  hope  of  triumph  had  vanished,  he 
displayed  the  same  indomitable  and  persistent  courage 
with  which  he  performed  every  act  in  life  as  soon  as 
he  had  determined  that  it  was  right  in  itself  and  a  part 
of  his  duty.  Possessing  a  splendid,  athletic  body,  he 
seemed  as  much  in  earnest  in  developing  it  by  physical 
exercises  as  in  conning  Greek  or  obeying  a  college 
law,  and  awakened  by  his  heartiness  the  enthusiasm 
of  those  around  him  in  gymnastic  sports  or  the  con- 
test of  shell-boats. 

"  Prominent  among  his  traits  was  his  absolute,  un- 
qualified, and  unmistakable  hatred  of  everything  mean. 
He  could  be  silent  under  an  act  of  injustice,  of  injury, 
even  of  insult,  when  he  believed  it  to  be  the  result  of 
thoughtlessness  or  ignorance ;  but  his  detestation  of 
meanness  begotten  of  deliberate  malice  or  of  littleness 
of  soul  was  inexpressibly  withering.  '  I  never  saw  him 
angry  on  any  other  account/  writes  a  classmate  who 
knew  him  well :  'but  a  mean  act  would  make  his  eyes 
flash  fire;  and  his  words  on  such  occasions,  though 
few,  were  emphatic.'  He  seemed  almost  to  have  be- 
longed to  an  order  of  Christian  knighthood  whose 
mission  might  be  to  exterminate  dastardly  and  pre- 


CONSCIENTIOUSNESS   AND   SINCERITY.  3! 

meditated  wickedness.  Alas  that  his  sword  should 
have  dropped  so  soon  from  his  hand ! 

"  His  inflexible  resolution  always  to  act  with  a  full 
understanding  of  his  duty,  preliminary  to  an  equally 
inflexible  determination  to  perform  it,  cannot  perhaps 
be  better  illustrated  than  by  his  course  relative  to  his 
acquiring  the  elective  franchise,  which  occurred  while 
he  was  in  college.  He  carefully  made  the  Constitu- 
tion of  the  United  States  a  subject  of  close  and  re- 
flective study,  not  merely  as  an  intellectual  exercise, 
but  for  the  purpose  of  becoming  thoroughly  acquainted 
with  the  nature  of  the  instrument  to  which  he  was 
about  to  swear  allegiance.  One  or  two  of  its  pro- 
visions were  the  source  of  protracted  deliberation  and 
discussion,  until,  in  fact,  his  doubts  were  removed. 

"  Of  his  Christian  character  in  college,  little  can  be 
said  that  is  not  true  of  it  in  every  situation.  His 
modesty  did  not  obscure  it ;  but  it  did  prevent  any 
ostentatious  display  of  it.  A  college  friend  on  terms 
of  closest  intimacy  writes  as  follows  :  '  Those  who  saw 
his  heart  in  this  respect  will  cherish  the  revelations 
made  to  them  as  something  sacred.  I  know  one  who 
was  brought  to  Christ,  who,  had  it  not  been  for  him, 
for  his  Christian  character  as  revealed  in  his  conversa- 
tion, and  for  the  sincerity  and  whole-heartedness  of 
his  trust  in  Christ,  would  not,  as  far  as  I  can  see,  have 
ever  been  a  Christian.  Others  I  know  who  were  in- 
fluenced by  him,  whom  he  did  not  know  or  dream  of, 
— whom  he  knows  now! 


32  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

"Undoubtedly  there  is  a  cloud  of  witnesses  to  the 
sublimity  of  that  faith,  and  the  simplicity  of  that  piety, 
which  made  their  lasting  impression  upon  otherwise 
heedless  souls.  To  those  not  acquainted  with  or 
superficially  knowing  Henry  Camp,  this  sketch  may 
seem  only  a  fulsome  panegyric ;  but  it  is  true  (and  it 
can  be  said  of  very  few  men)  that  no  word  of  praise 
could  be  erased  without  doing  him  injustice.  Indeed, 
words  are  worth  very  little  to  those  who  knew  him 
thoroughly.  They  may  perhaps  suggest  tender 
memories  that  will  come  thronging  back,  laden  with 
renewed  love  and  respect  for  him  who  commanded  by 
his  intrinsic  worth  so  much  of  affection  and  so  much 
of  reverence. 

"'No  man  despised  his  youth;'  for  he  was  'an 
example  of  the  believers  in  word,  in  conversation,  in 
charity,  in  spirit,  in  faith,  in  purity.' 

"The  poet  of  his  class,  in  his  valedictory  poem, 
described,  as  beautifully  as  he  did  correctly,  such  a 
character  as  Camp's,  in  the  following  verses : 

"  Living  well  is  not  mere  living 

In  the  cultured  taste  of  schools  : 
'Tis  not  in  the  knack  of  business, 
Or  the  hoarded  gold  of  fools  ; 

But  an  earnest  life's  deep  passion 

Beating  in  a  kingly  heart, 
With  the  gentle  grace  of  goodness 

Glorifying  every  part." 

"  If  ever  there  was  '  a  voice  from  the  tomb  sweeter 


A    CROWNING   VICTORY.  33 

than  song,  and  a  recollection  of  the  dead  to  which  we 
turn,  even  from  the  charms  of  the  living,'  it  is  when 
such  Christian  bravery  as  his  achieves  its  crowning 
victory  over  the  grave,  and  when  the  homage  we  pay 
to  his  intellectual  nobility  is  sanctified  by  the  blessed 
memory  of  those  virtues  which  are  '  the  native  growth 
of  noble  mind.'" 


CHAPTER  III. 

TEACHER,  LAW  STUDENT,  SOLDIER. 

jlFTER  leaving  college,  Camp's  first  testing 
of  his  new  acquisitions  was  in  the  work  of 
teaching.  In  the  early  autumn  following 
his  graduation  he  took  charge  of  the  high 
school  at  East  Hartford,  and  remained  as 
its  principal  about  six  months.  He  became  warmly 
attached  to  some  who  were  his  pupils  there ;  but  teach- 
ing was  tame  business  to  him,  especially  in  the  stirring 
times  then  opening  before  the  nation. 

Accepting  the  responsibilities  of  the  elective  fran- 
chise after  his  careful  study  of  the  Constitution,  he  cast 
his  first  vote,  in  the  spring  of  1 860,  for  good  Governor 
Buckingham.  In  the  Presidential  election  of  the  No- 
vember following,  he  voted  for  Abraham  Lincoln.  Of 
the  possible  consequences  of  this  vote  he  was  not  un- 
mindful, yet  he  had  no  hesitation  in  casting  it.  Doing 
what  he  believed  to  be  right,  he  was  never  anxious  as 
to  the  result.  He  did  not  desire  war.  Brought  up  in 
the  strictest  non-resistant  school,  he  was  emphatically 
a  lover  of  peace.'  Of  gentle,  retiring  nature,  he  shrank 
34 


STANDING    FOR    PRINCIPLE.  35 

instinctively  from  unpleasant  collision  with  any.  He 
never  quarreled.  Up  to  this  time  he  had  never  lifted 
a  hand  in  anger,  or  even  struck  a  blow  in  self-defense. 
He  was  ready  to  yield  whatever  was  properly  at  his 
disposal,  for  the  good  of  others,  or  for  the  sake  of  har- 
mony. But,  though  never  obstinate,  he  was  ever  firm. 
He  could  not  concede  an  iota  of  principle.  It  seemed 
an  impossibility  for  him  to  swerve  a  hair,  on  any  in- 
ducement, from  the  path  of  duty  as  he  saw  it.  Nothing 
but  a  clear  change  of  conviction  ever  changed  a  posi- 
tion which  he  assumed  on  a  moral  question.  War  or  no 
war,  he  would  vote  and  act  as  he  believed  to  be  right. 

In  the  early  spring  of  1861,  a  letter  received  from  a 
resident  of  the  South,  formerly  his  playfellow  and 
schoolmate,  while  it  grieved  him  by  an  unexpected 
harshness  of  spirit,  aroused  his  sense  of  manliness  by 
its  flings  at  Northerners,  and  its  threats  of  resistance 
to  Federal  rule.  He  replied  to  the  letter  in  calm  dig- 
nity, avoiding  every  issue  but  the  simple  one  of  duty 
to  a  Government  whose  beneficent  rule  its  bitterest 
opposers  could  not  gainsay,  while  he  held  to  account 
for  all  consequences  those  who  arrayed  themselves 
against  just  authority.  In  concluding,  he  said  :  — 

"  Should  you  resist,  as  you  threaten,  upon  your 
heads,  and  yours  alone,  will  rest  the  fearful  responsi- 
bility of  commencing  a  civil  war.  We  have  planted 
ourselves  upon  the  foundation  of  the  Constitution  and 
the  Laws  :  from  it,  we  shall  neither  advance  to  aggres- 
sion, nor  retreat  one  hair's  breadth  in  concession.  Con- 


36  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

scious  that  we  have  done  all  in  our  power  for  the 
maintenance  of  peace  and  harmony,  loath  to  encounter 
in  arms  those  whom  we  have  been  wont  to  greet  as 
brothers,  we  shall  yet  meet  unflinchingly  whatever 
issue  may  be  forced  upon  us,  urged  on,  not  by  impulse 
or  passion,  but  by  a  solemn  sense  of  the  duty  which 
we  owe  to  our  country.  Nor  will  the  men  of  New 
England,  sons  of  those  who  fought  at  Bunker  Hill  and 
Saratoga,  who  defended  for  the  South  the  soil  which 
her  Tories  would  not  and  her  patriots  could  not  de- 
fend for  themselves,  be  found  wanting  in  the  hour  of 
trial.  Side  by  side  with  the  brave  men  of  the  West, 
we  will  stand  to  the  last  for  the  Union,  the  Constitu- 
tion, and  the  Laws, — and  may  God  defend  the  right ! " 

After  leaving  his  work  in  East  Hartford,  Camp 
commenced  the  study  of  law  in  the  office  of  Hon.  John 
Hooker,  reporter  of  the  Supreme  Court  of  Connecti- 
cut. The  opening  of  the  war  found  him  thus  engaged ; 
and,  during  the  first  seven  months  of  its  progress,  he 
remained  a  law  student, — yet  by  no  means  contentedly. 

Had  he  followed  his  impulses,  he  would  have  sprung 
forward  at  the  first  call  of  the  President  for  troops ;  for 
he  was  already  prepared  for  the  issue,  and  he  was  never 
a  laggard  in  duty.  But  there  were  considerations  that 
held  him  back  for  a  time.  Those  whose  judgment  he 
had  ever  deferred  to,  and  whom  above  all  others  he 
loved  to  please,  while  as  warmly  patriotic  as  himself, 
were  so  imbued  with  the  gentle  spirit  of  Christian 
charity,  of  love  to  all,  that  they  could  not,  at  first,  see 


LONGING   FOR   SERVICE.  37 

the  j  ustification  of  war,  even  under  any  pressure  of 
wrong  from  others.  They  were  unwilling  that  the  son 
of  their  hearts  should  be  engaged  in  a  work  of  blood, 
not  because  he  might  lose  his  own  life,  but  lest  he 
should  take  the  life  of  others. 

If  the  need  of  men  to  defend  the  Government  had, 
at  that  time,  been  greater,  the  issue  might  have  been 
raised,  in  Camp's  mind,  between  filial  and  patriotic  ob- 
ligations ;  but  just  then  more  men  were  offering  them- 
selves than  could  be  accepted,  and  it  was  rather  as 
a  privilege  than  a  duty  that  any  entered  the  army. 
Hence,  Henry  Camp  denied  himself,  and  stayed  at 
home ;  and  no  sacrifice  which  he  ever  made  cost  him 
more,  or  was  more  purely  an  act  of  generous  self- 
abnegation,  than  to  sit  down  in  ease  at  the  North  dur- 
ing the  earlier  months  of  the  nation's  struggle  for  life. 
But,  although  at  home,  he  was  making  ready  for  the 
service  in  which  he  was  yet  to  bear  a  part.  Joining 
in  April  the  Hartford  City  Guard,  a  fine  organization 
of  citizen  soldiery,  he  acquired  proficiency  in  the  de- 
tails of  drill  and  company  movements,  while  making 
army  tactics  more  or  less  his  study.  On  September  5, 
1 86 1,  as  a  member  of  the  City  Guard,  doing  escort 
duty,  he  accompanied  the  remains  of  General  Lyon  to 
their  resting-place  in  Eastford ;  and  the  impressions 
of  that  occasion  only  added  fervor  to  his  strong  desire 
to  have  a  part  in  the  contest  in  which  the  hero,  then 
buried,  had  fallen. 

His  opportunity  came  at  length.     In  November,  a 


38  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

commission  was  tendered  him  in  the  Tenth  Regiment 
of  Connecticut  Volunteer  Infantry,  then  at  the  Annap- 
olis rendezvous  of  General  Burnside's  Coast  Division. 
The  proffered  position  was  unsought  and  unexpected. 
The  call  to  it  enabled  him  to  urge  anew  upon  his  par- 
ents the  claims  of  country  on  his  personal  service,  and 
the  fresh  indication  of  his  duty  furnished  by  this  seem- 
ing providential  summons.  While  the  subject  was 
under  deliberation,  he  prayerfully  sought  God's  coun- 
sel, and  earnestly  searched  the  Scriptures,  as  often 
before,  for  direction  as  to  the  path  of  right.  The  con- 
sent of  his  parents  was  obtained.  The  way  was  then 
clear  before  him.  He  signified  his  readiness  to  accept 
an  appointment,  and  received  a  commission  as  second 
lieutenant,  dated  December  5,  1861.  He  was  com- 
missioned by  Governor  Buckingham  on  the  nomina- 
tion of  Colonel  Charles  L.  Russell,  the  gallant  and 
experienced  commander  of  the  Tenth,  whose  desire  of 
increasing  the  number  of  good  officers  in  the  regiment 
induced  him  to  seek  the  best  material  from  without, 
to  take  the  place  of  that  sifted  out  in  the  process  of 
organization. 

Camp  entered  joyfully  upon  his  new  sphere  of  action. 
Those  who  saw  and  heard  him  at  the  Asylum  Hill 
Sunday-school,  where  he  was  a  faithful  and  beloved 
teacher,  on  the  Sunday  before  his  departure  for  the 
army,  will  not  soon  forget  the  impressions  of  that  occa- 
sion. Just  before  the  close  of  the  session,  the  super- 
intendent called  the  attention  of  the  school  to  the  fact, 


GOING    TO    THE    WAR.  39 

that  another  of  its  valued  teachers  was  to  leave  for  the 
army  in  the  course  of  the  week,  and  added  that  it 
would  be  gratifying  to  all  to  listen  to  his  parting  words. 
Thus  called  upon,  Camp  rose  at  his  seat,  in  a  far  cor- 
ner of  the  room,  and,  modestly  declining  to  step  forward 
to  a  more  prominent  place,  said  in  substance,  in  his 
quiet,  unassuming,  yet  dignified  and  impressive  man- 
ner :  "  My  friends,  I  have  no  farewell  speech  to  make 
to-day,  nor  would  it  be  becoming  in  me  to  attempt 
one.  I  am  only  one  more  going  out  to  the  war,  as 
many,  who  will  be  more  missed  than  I  shall  be,  have 
gone  before.  Why  should  this  call  for  special  notice  ? 
Although  I  love  my  home,  and  love  this  old  school,  I 
cannot  say  that  I  am  sorry  I  am  going  away.  I  can- 
not even  say  that  I  leave  you  all  because  I  deem  it  my 
duty  to  go.  I  rejoice  rather,  that,  at  length,  I  am  to 
have  the  part  I  have  longed  for,  but  which  has  been 
denied  me  until  now,  in  defending  my  Government  and 
in  serving  my  Country.  I  go  because  I  want  to  go ; 
and  I  give  God  thanks  for  the  privilege  of  going." 
And  so  it  was  that  Henry  Camp  went  to  the  war. 

Hastening  to  Annapolis,  he  joined  his  regiment,  and 
entered  on  the  performance  of  a  soldier's  duty,  and  the 
study  of  his  new  profession.  He  was  among  strangers, 
and  in  a  strange  work.  Few  men  ever  left  a  pleasanter 
home,  or  more  entirely  changed  their  associates,  hab- 
its, and  surroundings,  on  joining  the  army,  than  did 
Henry  Camp.  It  was  impossible  that  he  should  feel 
entirely  at  ease,  and  have  no  yearnings  for  the  delights 


40  TITE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

he  had  left  behind.  Yet  he  did  not  repent  his  decision. 
Writing  home  on  his  first  Sunday  evening  in  camp, 
he  said : — 

"  I  have  just  been  to  a  prayer-meeting,  and  it  really 
seems  good,  after  such  a  busy,  working  week.  I  shall 
prize  these  services,  and,  I  think,  enjoy  them  a  great 
deal  better  than  I  did  at  home.  They  are  held  nearly 
every  evening ;  but  our  officers'  school  interferes  with 
my  attending  them,  except  on  Sunday.  To-night,  a 
great  fire  was  built  at  the  foot  of  one  of  the  company 
streets,  and  we  gathered  around  it,  standing,  of  course. 
There  are  several  Greenwich  men  here,  who  have  come 
to  see  how  their  boys  are  getting  along, — men  who 
have  already  done  a  great  deal,  and  are  ready  to  do 
more  ;  and  one  of  them  spoke  very  earnestly.  Chap- 
lain Hall  said  a  few  words :  the  rest  consisted  about 
equally  of  prayers  and  singing. 

"  The  only  trouble  about  these  meetings  is,  that  they 
seem  so  homelike  and  pleasant,  that  I  believe  a  few 
more  would  make  me  homesick.  I  suspect  I  should 
be  very  soon,  if  every  day  were  Sunday,  and  I  had  leis- 
ure to  write  to  you,  and  think  about  you:  yet  I  have 
no  doubt  that  it  is  a  hundred  times  better  for  me  to  be 
here ;  and  I  am  very  glad  that  I  came.  I  enjoy  the 
idea  that  I  am  really  at  work,  though  I  can't  tell  yet 
how  much  my  work  will  accomplish :  something,  I 
believe,  for  myself,  if  for  nobody  else." 

In  full  appreciation  of  the  novelties  and  incongruities 
of  life  in  camp,  he  added  :  — 


CAMP    LIFE    AT   ANNAPOLIS.  4! 

"  There  are  all  sorts  of  things  going  on  here  at  once. 
Anybody  that  can't  suit  himself  somewhere  must  be 
hard  to  suit.  Prayer-meetings  at  one  end  of  an  ave- 
nue ;  a  group  swearing  till  they  make  everything  blue, 
at  the  other ;  one  set  singing,  '  Down  in  Alabam ; ' 
another,  hymns ;  some  reading  in  their  tents ;  some 
chasing  each  other  round,  or  wrestling  ;  bands  playing 
or  drums  beating  somewhere  almost  all  the  time;  sen- 
tinels calling  for  the  corporal  of  the  guard,  and  passing 
the  word  along  the  lines ;  a  little,  or  rather  a  good 
deal,  of  everything, — it  isn't  much  like  a  home  Sunday, 
unless  you  happen  to  get  into  the  right  spot,  and  then 
it  is." 

He  had  not  been  long  in  the  regiment,  before  he 
learned  that  a  prejudice  existed  against  himself  and 
the  newly  appointed  officers  who  came  with  him  from 
Connecticut,  because  they  were  selected  from  without 
to  fill  places  aspired  to  by  non-commissioned  officers, 
who  were  in  the  regiment  at  its  organization.  The 
discovery  of  this  fact  gave  Camp  scarcely  any  annoy- 
ance. He  merely  mentions  it  incidentally  in  a  home 
letter.  It  does  not  seem  to  have  caused  him  an  hour's 
discomfort.  He  had  not  sought  the  commission  :  it 
had  been  tendered  him  by  those  who  had  the  right  to 
give  it,  and  who,  being  competent  judges,  and  having 
the  interests  of  the  regiment  at  heart,  had  thought  it 
best  to  secure  his  services.  He  had  come,  not  to  obtain 
popularity  or  advancement,  but  to  serve  his  country 
and  perform  the  duties  of  his  sphere.  What  others 


4-2  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

thought  of  him,  while  his  conscience  was  clear,  was 
not  a  point  about  which  he  was  anxious.  With  all  his 
modesty  he  had  the  intuitive  consciousness  that  time 
would  right  him,  as  it  did  most  gloriously.  Mean- 
while he  moved  on  in  the  calm  dignity  of  his  noble- 
ness, respected  by  all, — as  well  by  those  who  envied 
him  and  had  jealousy  of  his  position,  as  by  those  who 
admired  him  and  were  always  glad  he  had  entered  the 
regiment. 

The  Tenth  was  in  the  brigade  of  General  John  G. 
Foster,  which  included  also  the  Twenty-third,  Twenty- 
fourth,  Twenty-fifth,  and  Twenty-seventh  Massachu- 
setts regiments,  —  all  New  England  troops  of  the 
choicest  material.  The  time  passed  at  Annapolis  was 
improved  in  necessary  drill  and  discipline,  and  in 
other  preparations  for  the  somewhat  delayed  move  of 
the  expedition. 

As  a  Christmas  gift,  Camp  sent  home,  in  a  letter,  a 
pencil-sketch  of  his  regimental  camp  at  Annapolis. 
This  sketch  appears  on  the  opposite  page. 

About  the  first  of  January,  1862,  orders  were  received 
for  the  embarkation  of  the  troops  of  the  expedition ; 
but  a  delay  of  several  days  occurred  before  all  was 
ready,  and  the  fleet  left  Annapolis.  Eight  companies 
of  the  Tenth  were  on  the  steamer  New  Brunswick. 
Two  companies,  I  and  B,  were  on  the  schooner  E.  W. 
Farrington.  Lieutenant  Camp  was  of  Company  I.  The 
fleet  rendezvoused  at  Fort  Monroe,  and  thence  sailed  for 
Hatteras.  On  his  first  Sunday  at  sea,  Camp  wrote: — 


II 


LIFE    ON    A    TRANSPORT.  43 

"  It  hasn't  seemed  much  like  Sabbath  to  me.  Every- 
thing on  shipboard  must  of  course  go  on  as  usual,  and 
reading  The  Independent  is  almost  the  only  thing 
that  reminds  me  of  home, — by  association,  I  mean : 
there  is  plenty  to  do  it  by  contrast.  How  little  I 
thought,  a  few  Sabbaths  ago,  that  I  should  be  on  the 
Atlantic  to-day,  bound  for  Hatteras,  in  a  little  schooner 
full  of  soldiers  on  their  way  to  the  battle-field, — and  I 
one  of  them  !  that's  the  strangest  of  it !  I  can't  realize 
it  yet  any  better  than  I  could  at  first.  I  have  to  stop 
once  in  a  while,  and  take  a  good  look  at  myself, — and 
that  doesn't  do  much  toward  it  either ;  and  then  go 
back  to  the  time  I  left  home,  and  think  it  all  over  from 
the  beginning,  before  I  can  be  quite  sure  that  this  fel- 
low here  isn't  somebody  else,  and  that  /  am  not  back 
in  Hartford,  studying  law  and  teaching  Sunday-school, 
and  living  a  good-for-nothing  lazy  life  of  it  generally." 

He  lived  no  "good-for-nothing  lazy  life"  in  army 
service.  While  on  the  transport,  his  opportunities  to 
exert  himself  for  others  were  as  few  as  they  could  be 
anywhere  ;  yet  even  there  he  proved  how  ready  he  was 
to  do  his  utmost  in  his  sphere.  Stormy  weather  de- 
layed the  progress  of  the  fleet.  Some  of  the  vessels 
drew  more  water  than  had  been  agreed  upon,  and  could 
not  pass  the  shoal  across  Hatteras  Inlet,  known  as  the 
"  Swash."  Weeks  instead  of  days  went  by  before  all 
were  fairly  inside  the  shoal.  The  quarters  of  the  men 
were  cramped,  close,  and  uncleanly.  The  drinking- 
water  had  all  been  put  in  filthy  casks.  Commissary 


44  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

stores  were  of  the  poorest  kind.  Army  contractors  had 
proved  a  curse  to  the  expedition.  The  health  and  the 
spirits  of  officers  and  men  suffered  greatly.  Drill  was 
out  of  the  question.  Discipline  could  be  but  partial, 
at  the  best.  Everything  tended  to  laxness  and  de- 
moralization. 

Under  these  circumstances,  the  pure  example  of 
Lieutenant  Camp  was  most  effective  for  good.  A 
brother  officer  tells  of  sitting  by  a  table  with  him,  in 
the  saloon  of  the  New  Brunswick,  one  evening,  play- 
ing chess,  when  an  officer  near  them  indulged  in  im- 
pure language.  Camp,  he  says,  fairly  blushed  like  a 
maiden;  and  then,  as  the  same  style  of  remark  was 
repeated,  he  rose  from  his  seat,  saying,  "  Let  us  find 
another  place,  the  air  is  very  foul  here."  Another 
officer,  who  was  his  companion  on  the  Farrington, 
says,  that  during  all  those  weeks  of  wearisomeness, 
with  the  entire  lack  of  home  restraints,  with  the  strong 
temptation  to  idle  talk,  and  with  the  example  of  so 
many  in  coarseness  or  profanity,  no  one  ever  heard 
Camp  utter  a  single  word  that  might  not  properly  have 
been  spoken  in  his  parlor  before  his  mother  and  sisters. 

Before  he  had  been  many  days  on  shipboard,  he  had 
an  opportunity  of  proving  conspicuously  his  courage 
and  gallantry.  The  steamer  City  of  New  York 
was  wrecked  just  outside  the  bar,  after  the  Farring- 
ton had  passed  within.  The  captain  of  the  schooner 
determined  to  attempt  the  rescue  of  those  on  the  wreck 
by  putting  off  in  his  yawl  in  the  severe  storm  then 


A    PULL    FOR    LIFE.  45 

raging.  Lieutenant  Camp  proposed  to  accompany 
him ;  but  the  old  skipper  "  disdained  him,  for  he  was 
but  a  youth,  and  ruddy,  and  of  a  fair  countenance." 
"  You ! "  he  cried  in  a  contemptuous  tone,  "  why,  you 
couldn't  handle  one  of  those  big  oars ! "  On  Camp's 
assuring  him  that  he  had  had  some  experience  in  row- 
ing, and  thought  he  could  get  along,  the  captain  hesi- 
tatingly accepted  his  services,  taking  an  extra  man  in 
the  boat  in  view  of  the  lieutenant's  probable  failure. 

The  storm  was  fearful.  The  little  boat  which  put 
off  for  the  wreck  was  a  mere  plaything  in  the  boiling 
surge,  tossed  hither  and  thither  by  the  lashing  waves 
and  the  driving  gale,  shipping  more  than  one  sea  that 
seemed  sure  to  swamp  it,  and  being  kept  on  its  way 
only  by  the  stoutest  hearts,  the  strongest  arms,  and 
the  steadiest  nerves.  The  attempt  to  reach  the  steamer 
proved  vain.  Human  strength  was  helpless  against 
the  combined  power  of  the  enraged  elements.  One 
after  another  of  the  boat's  crew  gave  up  in  despair, 
until  only  a  single  sailor  remained  with  Lieutenant 
Camp,  self-possessed  and  undaunted.  The  order  was 
given  to  return  to  the  transport.  When  again  on  his 
own  deck,  the  captain,  whose  distrust  of  the  fair-faced 
young  officer  had  given  place  to  admiration  for  the 
brave-hearted,  unflinching,  skilful  oarsman,  declared, 
enthusiastically :  "  Lieutenant  Camp  was  game,  and 
the  pluckiest  fellow  I  ever  saw :  if  I  had  had  a  boat's 
crew  like  him  I  could  have  gone  through  to  the 
wreck."  Others  who  watched  the  scene  were  equally 


46  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

impressed  in  the  young  student-soldier's  favor.  Said 
one  of  these :  "  Lieutenant  Camp  would  never  have 
given  the  word  to  turn  back,  for  fear  was  no  part  of 
his  composition."  The  story  of  this  exploit  was  often 
repeated  in  his  praise,  among  the  men  of  his  company 
and  throughout  the  regiment. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ROANOKE  AND  NEW- BERNE. 

length  there  was  a  break  in  the  long 
storm.  The  vessels  of  the  fleet  were  either 
over  the  "Swash,"  or  their  troops  and 
freight  were  transferred  to  other  craft. 
Early  in  February,  there  was  an  advance 
up  Pamlico  Sound  toward  Roanoke  Island. 

"  It  was  something  of  a  sight,"  wrote  Camp,  "  to  see 
so  many  vessels  under  headway  at  once ;  gunboats 
leading  off,  steamers  and  sailing  vessels  in  tow  of  them, 
following  on  in  a  procession  some  four  or  five  miles 
long,  while  little  tugs  and  fast  propellers  dodged 
about  among  them  in  all  directions.  General  Burnside 
passed  us  soon  after  we  started,  standing  on  the  hurri- 
cane-deck of  a  small  steamer,  and  compelled  to  keep 
his  head  uncovered  half  the  time  in  acknowledgment 
of  the  cheers  which  went  up  from  every  vessel  as  he 
came  opposite.  He  and  Foster  are  both  of  them  mag- 
nificent-looking men,  tall,  of  commanding  presence, 
and  generally  quite  the  article  one  reads  of." 

47 


48  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

Of  his  personal  feelings  on  the  approach  of  the  bat- 
tle, Camp  wrote,  the  evening  before  the  landing:  — 

"  I  can't  realize  that  I  am  to  have  my  first  experi- 
ence of  battle  to-morrow, — perhaps  my  last ;  not  fully, 
at  least.  I  believe  that  something  so  entirely  out  of 
the  range  of  all  one's  previous  experience  needs  to  be 
once  seen  before  it  can  be  brought  by  any  effort  fairly 
into  the  scope  of  thought.  I  suppose  that  is  one  rea- 
son why  it  affects  me  so  little.  I  expected  to  be  at 
least  somewhat  excited  beforehand ;  but  I  have  been  ten 
times  more  so  the  evening  before  a  boat-race.  I  shall 
sleep  to-night  like  a  top,  and  don't  believe  I  shall  dream 
about  it.  I  wish  I  could  feel  so  when  the  time  comes. 
I  shall  be  excited  enough  then,  I'll  venture.  If  I  can 
keep  cool  enough  to  behave  myself,  it's  all  I  expect." 

His  farewell  letter,  written  on  that  night  of  eventful 
anticipation,  to  be  delivered  to  his  home  friends  in  case 
of  his  fall,  was  touchingly  beautiful,  so  full  of  tender- 
ness for  those  whom  he  addressed,  so  firm  in  its  as- 
surance of  satisfaction  with  his  lot  in  such  a  cause,  so 
clear  in  its  expression  of  faith  in  Jesus  as  his  Saviour. 
It  was  never  forwarded,  but  destroyed  by  him  long 
after,  when  it  had  been  read  to  the  friend  in  whom  he, 
afterward,  came  to  confide  so  fully. 

In  the  afternoon  of  February  7,  the  troops  landed 
on  Roanoke  Island  under  cover  of  the  gunboats'  fire. 
There  was  a  dismal  night  in  a  pitiless  storm,  without 
shelter  for  the  poor  men,  who  were  as  yet  unused  to 
the  exposures  of  active  campaigning.  The  following 


DENIED    A   SHARE    IN    BATTLE.  49 

morning  was  the  day  of  battle.  To  his  disappointment 
and  regret,  Camp  was  prevented  sharing  in  all  the 
excitements  of  the  contest  by  being  ordered  to  the 
landing  on  special  duty,  just  as  his  regiment  was  taking 
position  on  the  field.  His  hurried  letter  of  the  follow- 
ing day  told  the  story  briefly: — 

"  I  suppose  you  will  hear  of  the  fight,  and  be  anxious. 
I  am  safe  and  well, — wasn't  in  the  action,  I'm  sorry  to 
say;  not  through  any  fault  of  mine,  though.  Just 
before  our  regiment  was  ordered  to  the  front,  I  was 
sent,  by  General  Foster's  orders,  on  detached  service. 
Ammunition  was  needed ;  and  I  was  directed  to  take 
a  steamer,  get  140,000  rounds  from  a  vessel  that  lay 
two  or  three  miles  offshore,  and  use  my  discretion  as 
to  the  means  of  bringing  it  forward  as  rapidly  as  pos- 
sible. I  used  all  speed;  but  the  affair  was  over  before 
I  could  rejoin  the  regiment.  It  was  a  hard  fight,  and 
a  splendid  victory.  If  I  only  could  have  been  there ! 
To  think  that  the  regiment  has  been  in  such  a  glorious 
affair,  and  I  have  no  part  in  it !  It  was  hard  to  be  the 
one  sent  away." 

In  a  subsequent  letter,  he  described  vividly  the  ad- 
vance of  his  regiment  to  the  battle,  and  the  incidents 
of  the  opening  fight.  Although  not  actually  under 
fire,  he  passed  through  all  the  tedious  preliminaries  of 
the  action,  which  every  old  soldier  knows  constitutes 
the  most  trying,  even  if  not  the  most  perilous,  part  of 
such  an  engagement.  It  was  of  the  early  morning  of 
February  8  that  he  wrote : — 

4 


50  THE   KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

"  The  men  fell  in  promptly  and  coolly,  and  stood 
awaiting  orders,  —  eating  their  breakfasts,  many  of 
them,  in  the  meantime.  The  regiments  on  the  right 
of  the  brigade  took  up  the  march  first,  the  others  fol- 
lowing in  brigade  order  (we  came  third),  marching  in 
column,  four  abreast,  along  a  narrow  road  with  dense 
underbrush  on  either  side,  making  it  very  difficult  for 
the  skirmishers  on  the  flanks  to  advance,  and  furnish- 
ing every  advantage  for  an  enterprising  enemy  to  annoy 
us.  They  didn't,  however.  .  .  . 

"As  we  advanced,  we  could  hear  the  frequent  re- 
ports of  muskets,  and  the  occasional  crack  of  a  rifle, 
sounding  some  half  a  mile  ahead.  It  was  evident  that 
the  skirmishers  were  at  it.  Not  far  beyond  the  brook 
we  passed  the  Twenty-first  Massachusetts,  who  had 
been  at  the  outposts  during  the  night, — some  in  line 
along  the  roadside,  some  around  fires  a  little  farther 
in  the  woods, — a  fine-looking  set  of  fellows,  who  ex- 
changed jokes  and  greetings  with  us  as  we  went  by. 
The  farther  we  went,  the  sharper  the  firing  became ; 
and  soon  we  had  to  make  way  for  four  men  who  came 
carrying  a  litter,  heavy,  with  a  blanket  thrown  over 
what  lay  upon  it.  Men  looked  at  each  other,  and 
grew  sober.  Presently  a  couple  more  came  with  one 
between  them :  no  wound  was  visible ;  but  he  was 
ghastly  pale,  and  could  scarcely  walk  with  their  sup- 
port. Then  we  came  upon  another,  lying  quite  still 
by  the  roadside;  he  had  been  brought  so  far  and  left, 
the  wounded  needed  attention  more  than  he.  There 


FIRST   SIGNS   OF   FIGHTING.  51 

was  no  blood,  or  almost  none,  upon  any  of  them.  I 
looked  to  see  the  wounds,  and  wondered  that  there 
seemed  to  be  none,  until  I  remembered  that  gunshot 
injuries  seldom  cause  any  flow  of  blood  which  would 
soak  through  the  clothing.  Another  passed,  with  one 
on  each  side  to  help  him  :  he  groaned  heavily ;  and 
his  left  arm,  what  there  was  of  it,  hung  in  rags  from 
its  bloody  stump :  it  had  been  shattered  by  the  pre- 
mature discharge  of  one  of  our  own  field-pieces. 

"  These  things  are  so  different  to  see  and  to  read 
about,  it  strikes  one  like  a  new  idea  to  have  the  sight 
actually  before  his  eyes,  just  as  if  he  hadn't  expected 
that  very  thing.  I  can't  describe  the  sensation  it  gave 
me.  I  sha'n't  pretend  to  say  that  I  wasn't  at  all  affected 
by  it ;  indeed,  of  all  the  men  whom  I  have  heard  speak 
about  it  since  the  time,  there  was  only  one  who  did  pre- 
tend so, — he  may,  perhaps,  have  told  the  truth. 

"  Our  march  was  obstructed  by  water  and  thickets ; 
sometimes  we  halted  to  allow  those  behind  to  come 
up,  then  started  off  at  double-quick  to  gain  lost  dis- 
tance. The  discharge  of  cannon  and  musketry  grew 
constantly  louder  and  more  frequent,  until  there  was 
an  almost  uninterrupted  rattle,  evidently  quite  near,  but 
more  apparently  to  the  left  than  in  front.  At  length 
we  halted,  and  the  men  rested  for  a  few  moments  to 
give  the  regiment  before  us  time  to  get  into  position 
before  we  advanced  to  ours.  The  wounded  were  being 
brought  by  at  short  intervals,  and  we  had  nothing  to 
do  but  watch  them  as  they  passed. 


52  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

"  It  was  curious  to  notice  the  different  effect  which 
the  first  true  idea  of  what  battle  is  produced  on  dif- 
ferent men.  I  looked  at  various  faces.  Some  were 
perfectly  natural;  a  few  bright;  a  large  majority  ex- 
ceedingly sober;  more  than  one  a  little  pale.  I  was 
wondering  whether  I  looked  pale,  when  Major  Petti- 
bone  came  up  and  ordered  me  to  the  head  of  the 
column  to  tell  Colonel  Russell  that  the  general's  orders 
were  to  advance.  I  delivered  the  message,  and  re- 
ceived for  reply  that  General  Foster  was  himself  there 
and  in  command.  So  I  reported  to  the  major,  and 
took  my  place  again." 

It  was  just  then  that  Lieutenant  Camp  was  ordered 
back  for  the  ammunition.  The  task  assigned  him  was 
a  tedious  one;  and  when  it  was  at  length  accomplished, 
his  regiment,  having  changed  position,  was  not  easily 
found  by  him.  Although  he  strained  every  nerve  to 
be  speedily  again  at  the  front,  it  was  evening  before  he 
was  once  more  with  his  command. 

"  Late  in  the  afternoon,"  he  continued,  "after  I  had 
given  up  all  hopes  of  rejoining  the  regiment  in  season 
to  take  any  part  in  the  action,  General  Foster,  with  a 
couple  of  his  aides,  came  riding  along.  He  stopped 
and  told'  us  the  news  himself.  'They  have  surren- 
dered!^— 2,000  prisoners!  They  asked  what  terms  I 
would  give  them:  I  said  an  unconditional  surrender, 
and  they  accepted !'  The  men  didn't  give  him  time 
to  finish.  Up  went  the  caps,  and  up  went  the  cheers, 
and  up  went  the  men  bodily;  their  loads  didn't  weigh 


THE   COST   OF   VICTORY.  53 

a  feather.  He  inquired  about  the  ammunition,  and 
passed  on." 

The  part  of  the  Tenth  in  the  engagement  had  been 
prominent  and  honorable,  and  its  losses  severe.  Gal- 
lant Colonel  Russell  had  been  killed  early  in  the  action. 
Other  brave  officers  and  good  men  had  given  the 
testimony  of  blood  to  their  patriotism.  To  one  who 
had  so  longed  for  the  privilege  of  an  active  part  in  the 
great  conflict  as  Henry  Camp,  the  disappointment  of 
being  separated  from  his  regiment  at  the  decisive  hour 
of  such  a  contest  was  bitter  and  enduring.  The  thrill- 
ing narrative  of  the  excitements  and  perils  of  the  day, 
to  which  he  listened  with  profoundest  interest  by  the 
bivouac  fire  on  the  stormy  night  succeeding,  and  every 
repetition  of  its  noteworthy  incidents,  from  brother 
officers,  on  subsequent  occasions,  only  intensified  his 
regret,  and  deepened  his  sense  of  personal  loss. 

"The  more  I  think  of  my  own  absence,"  he  wrote, a 
few  days  later,  "  the  more  it  provokes  me.  Not  that  I, 
or  any  one  else,  feel  as  if  I  was  at  all  to  blame  for  it ; 
but  it  has  drawn  a  sort  of  line  between  me  and  all  the 
rest.  They  shared  the  danger,  and,  of  course,  share 
the  exultation  of  the  battle.  I  can  only  rejoice  as  I 
would  over  any  other  victory.  They  have  all  been 
tested,  and  stood  the  test.  I  am  still  untried.  They, 
in  short,  are  the  victors  in  one  of  the  most  glorious 
battles — perhaps  the  very  most  so — that  have  yet  been 
fought.  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  it :  even  my  wretched 
ammunition  wasn't  needed  or  used.  It's  very  doubt- 


54  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

ful  whether  our  regiment  has  another  chance.  Even 
if  there  is  another  fight  at  New-Berne,  the  second 
brigade  will  probably  claim  and  receive  the  advance. 
At  the  best,  I  shall  always  be  one  behind  the  rest, — 
have  one  less  deed  to  remember  and  be  proud  of. 

"  I  don't  like  to  think  of  all  my  friends  who  know 
that  the  Tenth  Connecticut  distinguished  itself,  in- 
quiring where  I  was,  and  what  I  was  about;  and  what 
will  provoke  me  most  of  all  will  be  the  attempt  I 
know  some  of  them  will  make  to  persuade  me  they 
think  it  was  just  as  well,  all  the  same  thing,  and  all 
that  humbug.  Anything  but  that!  If  the  war  should 
come  to  an  end,  as  I  suppose  I  ought  to  hope  it  will, 
without  my  having  been  in  battle,  I  shall  never  want 
to  show  my  face  again  at  home ;  not  that  I  shall  have 
anything  to  be  ashamed  of,  but  that  I  sha'n't  have 
anything  else.  There's  enough  of  grumbling! — it's 
babyish,  and  does  no  good:  but  that's  just  the  way  I 
feel  about  it;  and  now  that  I've  cried  my  cry  out,  I'll 
stop." 

The  troops  remained  but  a  few  days  on  shore  at 
Roanoke  Island.  Re-embarking,  they  made  several 
demonstrations  up  Pamlico  Sound;  but  the  advance 
to  New-Berne  was  delayed  until  the  following  month. 
During  the  weeks  of  waiting  on  shipboard,  before  and 
after  the  first  landing,  Camp's  home  letters  were  full 
and  varied,  showing  him  in  his  true  light  as  the  man 
of  cheerfulness,  of  honor,  of  courage,,  of  patriotism,  of 
purity,  of  poetry,  and  of  Christian  faith. 


MAKING    LIGHT    OF    HARDSHIPS.  55 

"I  have  just  been  hearing,"  he  wrote,  "part  of  a 
letter  from  the  New  York  Times,  about  this  expedi- 
tion, written  at  Hatteras ;  very  accurate  in  its  state- 
ments ;  but  I  really  hadn't  realized  before  what  a  hard 
time  we  have  had  of  it.  It  sounds  quite  formidable, 
all  boiled  down  and  concentrated  into  the  space  of  one 
newspaper  column ;  but  taken  in  small  doses,  as  we 
have  had  it,  at  considerable  intervals,  it  hasn't  seemed 
to  amount  to  so  much.  We  have  concluded,  since  read- 
ing it,  to  set  up  for  martyrs :  the  idea  hadn't  occurred 
to  us  before. 

"These  things  are  not  half  as  hard  as  they  sound; 
they  are  just  what  we  anticipate,  and  go  prepared  for; 
very  different  from  what  they  would  be  to  one  fresh 
from  home,  without  the  hardening  process  which  we 
have  already  undergone  in  camp." 

It  was  thus  that  he  sought  to  encourage  his  friends 
at  home  as  to  his  personal  trials  and  privations  on  the 
close,  cramped,  and  filthy  transport.  If  he  mentioned 
these  at  all,  it  was  in  a  burlesque  strain  that  hardly 
made  an  appeal  for  pitying  sympathy.  Thus  from  the 
"Swash:" 

"The  poor  fellows  down  in  the  hold  would  be  glad 
to  stretch  their  legs  ashore,  I  know.  They  are  terri- 
bly crowded.  They  are  packed  so  close  at  night,  that, 
when  they  have  lain  long  enough  on  one  side,  some- 
body sings  out,  '  Hard-a-lee,'  and  over  they  all  go  to- 
gether, just  as  we  used  to  hoist  the  signal,  '  Leg  over/ 
in  the  recitation-room  at  college,  and  astonish  the 


56  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

tutors  with  a  simultaneous  whisk  from  one  side  to  the 
other.  This  is  a  little  more  practical.  .  .  . 

"All  our  water  is  brought  from  Baltimore:  it 
costs  seven  cents  a  gallon,  delivered  at  Annapolis.  It 
isn't  first-rate,  though  the  barrel  we  are  now  on  an- 
swers well  enough.  The  flavor  depends  on  what  the 
barrel  held  before.  This  was  a  whisky  barrel :  those 
we  have  had — kerosene  and  turpentine — were  not  so 
good.  .  .  . 

"  I'll  venture  to  say  that  there's  no  spot  in  the 
United  States  where  there  are  more  men,  boys,  ne- 
groes, and  cockroaches,  to  the  square  foot,  than  in  the 
cabin  of  the  E.  W.  Farrington.  The  first  three  I'm 
used  to, — can  stand  being  crowded  by  them ;  but  this 
having  cockroaches  hold  a  door  when  one  tries  to 
open  it,  and  pull  his  blankets  off  from  him  at  night,  is 
something  new.  We  have  held  our  own  pretty  well ; 
but  they  are  gradually  getting  the  upper  hand  of  us : 
infantry  are  no  match  for  them,  and  we  talk  of  getting 
a  few  artillerymen,  with  their  guns,  from  Fort  Hatteras. 
I  thought  of  putting  a  few  specimens  into  the  box  of 
curiosities  I  send  home,  making  a  regular  infernal 
machine  of  it ;  but,  reflecting  that  you  have  no  arms 
but  the  old  Revolutionary  sword,  concluded  to 
wait." 

Of  the  national  situation  just  then,  before  the  brill- 
iant victories  on  the  Western  waters  had  reassured 
confidence  in  the  Federal  cause,  and  while  enemies  at 
the  North  were  co-operating  with  enemies  beyond  the 


PATRIOTISM    AND    CHIVALRY.  57 

seas  to  give  encouragement  and  aid  to  enemies  at  the 
South,  he  spoke  with  firmness  and  courage. 

"  Things  abroad  do  look  pretty  dark  for  us,  don't 
they  ?  if  foreign  newspapers  at  all  reflect  the  feelings 
of  their  governments.  It  is  a  hard  fight  now.  Euro- 
pean intervention  would  make  it  well-nigh  desperate. 
I  hope  that  our  Government  will  stand  firm  at  all  haz- 
ards, and  that  the  North  will  sustain  such  a  policy 
until  the  last  dollar  is  gone,  the  last  village  burned  to 
the  ground,  and  the  last  able-bodied  man  has  fallen  on 
the  battle-field ;  but  I'm  afraid  they  haven't  the  reso- 
lution and  the  self-denial  to  hold  out  to  the  end.  I 
am  afraid  that  danger  and  disaster  will  develop  cow- 
ardice, as  they  always  do,  and  we  shall  be  left  to  the 
fate  we  shall  then  deserve.  I  haven't  really  looked 
upon  such  a  thing  as  possible,  hitherto :  it  need  not 
be  now,  if  the  nation  will  only  put  forth  its  strength; 
but  will  it  ?  That's  the  question.  I  don't  see  how  any 
man,  who  can  do  anything,  can  be  inactive  now,  when 
every  day  of  his  life  is  worth  a  century." 

Referring  to  the  advance  of  the  troops  up  Roanoke 
Island  after  the  battle,  and  their  visits  to  the  camps 
and  homes  of  the  enemy,  he  gave  expression  to  his 
refined  sense  of  honor  as  a  truly  chivalrous  soldier. 

"  Besides  many  other  articles  taken  from  the  field  or 
from  houses,  a  number  of  letters  were  found,  curious 
specimens  enough,  some  of  them,  in  point  both  of 
manner  and  matter, — on  all  subjects,  from  love  to  shoe- 
pegs.  I  was  almost  ashamed  of  myself  for  listening 


58  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

while  some  of  them  were  being  read.  I  don't  know 
what  title  a  victory  gives  one  to  pry  into  other  men's  pri- 
vate matters  in  this  way,  those  at  least  of  a  domestic  or 
social  nature;  and  it  really  seems  too  bad.  This  letter 
business  strikes  me  as  a  very  different  thing  from  the 
transfer  of  ordinary  property,  according  to  the  rule 
which  every  one  recognizes,  that  to  the  victors  belong 
the  spoils." 

Surely  a  college-mate  esteemed  him  rightly  who 
wrote,  on  hearing  of  his  death,  "  I  can  conceive  nothing 
knightlier  than  Henry  Camp,  the  soldier.  All  the 
graces  of  valor,  loyalty,  and  generosity  must  have  sat 
upon  him,  and  made  him  the  very  flower  of  our  heroic 
youth.  Great-Heart  is  the  name  that  became  him. 
Like  Bunyan's  knight,  he  has  overcome,  and  passed 
on  and  up  before  us  to  the  better  country." 

A  few  nights  before  the  battle  of  New-Berne,  he 
wrote : — 

"  It  has  been  a  beautiful  day,  and  the  fleet  was  a  fine 
sight,  at  noon,  as  it  stretched  in  long  line  from  east  to 
west,  moving  steadily,  and  with  a  look  of  power  that 
was  magnificent.  No  land  in  sight,  except  a  few  blue 
lines  at  intervals  along  the  horizon;  and  again  at  sun- 
set, when  the  sun,  which  had  been  for  some  hours 
clouded,  came  out  and  lit  the  whole  scene  most  gor- 
geously. I  climbed  the  shrouds,  and  stayed  aloft  until 
it  began  to  grow  dark.  It  isn't  often,  in  an  ordinary 
lifetime,  that  one  sees  a  sight  better  worth  looking  at 
than  that  was.  It's  very  true  that  soldiering  isn't  all 


BETWEEN    ROANOKE   AND    NEW-BERNE.  59 

poetry,  according  to  some ;  but  neither  is  it  all  prose, 
according  to  others. 

"  I  wish  I  was  good  at  description.  I'd  like  to  paint 
you  a  scene  occasionally,  so  that  you  could  see  it  as 
you  can  Scott's  or  Longfellow's.  And  that  /,  of  all 
men,  who  have  never  pictured  to  myself,  even  in  imagi- 
nation, any  but  the  most  commonplace,  dog-trot  sort 
of  a  life,  should  be  in  the  midst  of  what  seems  to  me, 
even  now,  more  like  romance  than  fact, — I  can't  real- 
ize it  more  than  half  the  time." 

It  was  after  such  an  evening  of  poetic  musing  that  he 
wrote  the  following  lines, — as  stately  and  as  graceful 
as  his  own  manly  form,  and  as  warm  as  his  own  loving 
heart.  They  shortly  after  appeared  anonymously  in 
the  Hartford  Evening  Press  : — 

BETWEEN  ROANOKE  AND  NEW-BERNE. 

The  swift-winged  Northern  breezes  are  blowing  fair  and  free : 
I  pace  by  night  the  spray-wet  deck,  and  watch  the  rushing  sea ; 
The  whistling  of  the  shrill-voiced  wind  is  full  of  speech  to  me : 
It  stretches  taut  the  swelling  sail,  it  crests  the  wave  with  foam : 
I  drink  its  bracing  freshness ;  it  is  the  breath  of  home. 

From  hoary  monarch  mountains,  whose  giant  cliffs,  piled  high, 
Lift  up  their  snow -crowned  foreheads  against  the  clear,  cold 

sky, — 

From  forests  dark  with  shadow,  where  pine  and  cedar  fling 
Music  and  fragrance  mingled  upon  the  zephyr's  wing, — 
From  leaping  white-maned  torrents,  that  thunder  on  their  way, 
Cleaving  a  path  of  madness  through  splintered  granite  gray, — 
From  every  hill  and  valley, — from  every  rock  and  tree, — 
New  England  sends  a  deep-drawn  breath,  far  o'er  the  Southern  sea. 


60  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

Slowly  the  anxious  hours  passed  on  in  dark  suspense 

With  breathing  hushed  to  silence,  and  nerve  and  heartstring 

tense  : 

Now  swells  from  heaving  bosom  the  sigh  of  deep  relief, 
Too  sad  for  shout  of  triumph,  too  proud  for  sob  of  grief, — 
The  banners  of  our  victory  wave  o'er  a  fallen  chief.1 

Yet  welcome,  at  whatever  price,  the  Nation's  leap  to  life ! 
Rather  than  deathly  stupor,  hail  to  the  deadly  strife  ! 
From  East  to  West,  the  solid  tramp  of  armies  shakes  the  ground ; 
The  vibrant  clang  of  ringing  steel  fills  all  the  air  with  sound ; 
The  sword,  so  long  uplifted,  sweeps  down  in  sudden  wrath  : 
Right  through  the  hosts  of  treason  it  hews  its  crimson  path. 

Before  its  edge  of  terror  shrink  back  the  rebel  foe, 
As  leaves  that  curl  before  the  breath  of  Etna's  fiery  flow ; 
Again  is  bared  the  red  right  arm  another  blow  to  smite ; 
Already  blaze  the  signals  that  tell  of  coming  fight, — 
To-morrow's  sun  shall  set  in  blood, — Amen  ! — God  speed  the 
right! 

On  the  1 3th  of  March,  the  troops  landed  at  Slocum's 
Creek,  about  fifteen  miles  below  New -Berne,  and 
marched  some  ten  miles  in  a  drenching  rain  toward 
the  city.  There  was  another  night  of  bivouac  in  a 
pelting  storm,  as  at  Roanoke,  to  the  sore  discomfort 
of  all. 

"  I  stood  before  the  fire,"  wrote  Camp,  cheerfully, 
of  that  night,  "until  I  was  tolerably  dry;  took  my 
blankets,  which  the  india-rubber  had  kept  in  good 
order,  for  a  seat;  leaned  my  back  against  a  stack  of 
rifles,  and  slept  three  or  four  hours  quite  comfortably. 

1  Colonel  Russell  of  the  Tenth. 


THE    TEST    OF    BATTLE.  6 1 

I  believe,  with  a  little  practice,  I  could  sleep  standing 
on  one  foot  or  on  my  head  :  it's  all  habit,  and  I'm 
quite  getting  over  the  foolish  prejudice  in  favor  of 
lying  down, — especially  on  anything  soft." 

An  early  start  was  made  on  the  morning  of  the 
1 4th,  and  an  advance  toward  the  enemy's  intrenched 
position.  It  was  not  long  before  Camp  had  the  desired 
opportunity  to  test  himself  in  battle. 

"I  was  afraid,"  he  wrote,  "we  shouldn't  reach  the 
front  before  the  affair  was  over;  but  very  soon  the 
order  came  to  turn  aside  from  the  road,  and  march 
through  the  fields  to  a  position  farther  to  the  left.  We 
took  an  oblique  direction,  and  hadn't  gone  a  hundred 
rods  when  a  loud,  swift  whiz  went  through  the  air, 
sounding  as  if  some  one  had  torn  a  thousand  yards  of 
canvas  from  one  end  to  the  other  at  a  single  pull. 
Almost  everybody  involuntarily  looked  up  (I  did),  as 
if  we  could  have  seen  it  pass,  when  it  was  far  beyond 
us  when  the  sound  first  struck  our  ears.  Some 
stooped, — one  or  two  crouching  close  to  the  earth,  and 
hardly  ready  to  rise  until  they  were  sharply  started. 
A  few  yards  farther,  and  there  was  another, — this  time 
apparently  passing  but  a  little  above  our  heads;  then 
another,  and  still  more;  some  farther,  and  some  nearer, 
— every  one  causing  more  or  less  dodging,  and  an 
occasional  irregularity  in  the  ranks,  promptly  checked, 
as  far  as  possible,  by  the  officers. 

"We  passed  obliquely  into  the  woods,  and  were 
ordered  to  lie  down  just  behind  the  crest  of  a  slightly 


62  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

inclining  slope.  The  men  were  behaving  well  enough ; 
but  they  didn't  wait  to  hear  the  order  twice.  I  never 
saw  a  crowd  drop  quite  so  suddenly  as  they  did.  As  we 
lay  on  the  marshy  ground,  bullets  flew  thick ;  some 
seeming  to  pass  only  two  or  three  feet  over  us :  one 
entered  the  ground  just  at  the  elbow  of  one  of  the  men. 
Occasionally  there  would  be  none  heard  for  some  little 
time,  then  a  perfect  shower  would  hiss  along,  with  a 
sharp  'thud'  now  and  then  as  one  struck  a  tree  close 
by.  Grape  rattled  through  once  or  twice,  generally 
passing  high;  though  I  saw  the  water  dashed  up  by 
it,  from  a  pool  a  little  to  the  right.  We  had  been  in 
this  position  perhaps  twenty  or  thirty  minutes,  when 
an  order  came  for  us  to  march  to  the  front,  and  open 
fire  immediately.  'Now,'  said  I,  'it's  coming:  in 
about  three  minutes  we  shall  see  who's  who,  and 
what's  what.'  The  fire  of  the  enemy,  at  this  time, 
seemed  to  be  directed  elsewhere.  We  advanced  to 
the  edge  of  the  woods,  formed  line  of  battle,  and  pre- 
pared to  fire,  without,  I  think,  their  having  observed 
us  at  all. 

"We  knew  that,  as  soon  as  we  discovered  our  situa- 
tion by  firing,  we  should  be  answered ;  but,  in  the 
meantime,  we  had  opportunity  to  form  and  dress  the 
line  without  disturbance.  It  had  scarcely  been  done, 
when  our  right  opened  fire  ;  and  it  passed  rapidly  down 
the  line  toward  us.  The  men  were,  for  the  moment, 
wild  with  excitement,  and  waited  for  no  orders,  but 
raised  their  pieces  and  fired, — half  of  them  without 


ANOTHER   VICTORY.  63 

taking  aim.  I  checked  those  who  were  near  me.  But 
soon  the  order  was  given,  and  at  it  they  went  again, — 
loading  and  firing  just  as  rapidly  as  they  could  handle 
their  pieces. 

"We  could  see  the  puffs  of  smoke  rise  from  the 
breastworks  in  front  of  us,  and  once  or  twice  a  momen- 
tary slackening  of  our  own  volleys  allowed  us  to  hear 
the  whistle  of  bullets.  It  didn't  need  that  to  make  the 
reports  of  artillery,  and  roar  of  solid  shot  through  the 
air,  audible ;  but  it  was  some  little  time  before  I  saw 
any  effects  of  their  reply  to  us.  I  had  been  moving 
from  one  to  another,  rectifying  the  aim  of  some  who 
fired  high,  and  seeing  to  it  that  they  understood  what 
they  were  about,  when  I  saw  a  man  who  had  been 
lying  on  the  ground  a  few  yards  to  the  left,  roll  sud- 
denly over.  I  turned  toward  him;  but  some  one  was 
already  supporting  his  head,  as  the  blood  gushed  over 
his  face  from  a  hideous  wound :  a  bullet  had  entered 
his  eye,  and  lodged  in  the  lower  part  of  his  head. 
Several  of  the  men  gathered  around;  but  I  sent  them 
back  to  their  places,  and  they  went  without  a  word. 
Most  of  them  behaved  excellently  throughout,  listen- 
ing to  orders,  and  obeying  them  promptly,  after  the 
wild  excitement  of  the  first  few  rounds  was  over. 

"We  were  still  firing  rapidly,  when  cheering  rose 
loud  in  front;  and,  in  a  moment  more,  our  flag  ap- 
peared, waving  from  the  parapet  of  the  breastwork. 
They  cheered  on  the  right,  and  they  cheered  on  the 
left,  and  they  cheered  before  us,  and  we  cheered,  and 


64  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

had  hardly  finished  cheering  when  the  order  came  to 
resume  our  march.  The  battle  was  over,  and  we  had 
only  to  take  possession  of  New-Berne." 

Camp  had  passed  bravely  the  ordeal  of  battle.  So 
cool  was  he,  seemingly  unmoved  when  the  fight  was 
hottest,  and  those  about  him  most  excited,  that  the 
men  of  his  company  called  him  their  Iron  Man,  and 
told  how  efficient  he  was,  in  directing  the  fire  of  some, 
in  giving  assistance  to  others  whose  pieces  were  out 
of  order,  and  in  speaking  encouraging  words  to  all, 
ever  with  "the  same  pleasant  look  in  his  face." 

"As  to  my  own  feelings,"  he  said,  in  his  home 
letter,  "I  can't  describe  them  any  more  than  I  could 
when  I  tried  before.  They  were  much  the  same,  only 
less  in  degree,  as  when  we  were  marching  into  action 
at  Roanoke.  I  was  thoroughly  excited  internally,  and 
every  nerve  was  tense;  but  I  can't  accuse  myself  of 
any  tendency  to  avoid  the  danger  I  felt,  or  even  of 
dodging  bullets,  as  I  have  heard  that  most  men  invol- 
untarily do  when  they  are  first  under  fire.  This  ex- 
citement of  nerves  continued  until  the  action  fairly 
commenced,  and  then  seemed  to  wear  off  rapidly,  until, 
after  we  had  been  engaged  a  few  minutes,  I  felt  as 
cool,  and,  I  thought  then,  as  natural  as  ever.  It 
couldn't  have  been  natural,  though ;  for  I  have  been 
shocked  since  to  think  how  little  I  cared  for  the  poor 
fellows  that  were  wounded.  The  reason,  I  suppose, 
that  the  danger  ceased  to  affect  me  was,  that  I  had 
something  more  important  to  occupy  my  mind.  I 


SENSATIONS    UNDER    FIRE.  65 

thought  of  it,  of  course,  but  was  too  busy  to  pay  any 
attention  to  it." 

In  another  letter,  describing  the  battle  to  his  friend 
Owen,  he  said: 

"The  sensation  of  coming  under  fire  is,  to  me, 
very  much  like  that  I  used  to  feel  in  boat-racing, — 
exceedingly  nervous  business  waiting  for  the  signal  to 
give  way,  but  comfortable  enough  as  soon  as  there  is 
an  opportunity  to  work  off  the  surplus  excitement. 
How  a  bayonet  charge  or  a  repulse  of  cavalry  might 
seem,  I  cannot  tell;  but  there  has  been  nothing  in 
such  work  as  has  fallen  to  us  hitherto,  more  exciting 
than  there  was  for  the  oarsmen  in  one  of  our  grand 
boat-races  between  Harvard  and  Yale." 

The  bridge  across  the  Trent  being  burned  by  the 
Confederates,  there  was  a  delay  of  some  hours  in  trans- 
porting the  troops  of  Foster's  brigade,  on  gunboats,  to 
the  city  bank  of  the  river.  Late  in  the  afternoon,  the 
Tenth  marched  through  the  streets  of  New-Berne  to 
the  old  Fair  Grounds,  and,  taking  possession  of  the 
just  deserted  camp  of  the  Thirty-third  North  Carolina 
Regiment,  made  ready  for  a  night  of  rest.  Not  many 
officers  would  speak  as  cheerfully  of  a  detail  for  guard- 
duty,  under  such  circumstances,  as  did  Lieutenant 
Camp  when  called  upon  that  evening. 

"I  was  too  tired,"  he  said,  "to  spend  much  time 
looking  about  me, — was  reflecting  how  nicely  I  should 
feel  inside  my  blankets  in  about  five  minutes  (it  was 
now  two  or  three  hours  after  dark),  and  had  just  pulled 

5 


66  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

off  my  boots  for  the  first  time  since  I  left  the  vessel, 
when  the  adjutant  came  in.  'You'll  have  to  put  them 
on  again,'  said  he.  '  You  are  detailed,  with  thirty 
men  from  your  company,  to  do  provost  guard-duty. 
Can  you  stand  it  ? '  It  was  rather  tough  after  two 
such  days ;  but  I  was  less  tired  than  most  of  the  rest. 
I  find  that  my  endurance  is  greater  than  that  of  men 
who  consider  themselves  tough.  My  old  training 
stands  me  in  good  stead,  and  especially  my  habits  of 
walking.  I  haven't  yet  been  so  tired  by  any  march  as 
not  to  feel  equal  to  ten  miles  more,  though  I  mightn't 
have  been  anxious  to  carry  my  overcoat  and  equip- 
ments along.  But  the  men  —  I  really  hated  to  call  out 
some  of  them,  poor  fellows !  hardly  able  to  drag  one 
foot  after  the  other." 

This  considerate  regard  for  the  men  who  were  under 
him,  showed  itself  in  all  his  home  letters,  and  also — to 
those  who  knew  him  well — in  his  conversation  and 
actions.  His  quiet,  undemonstrative  ways  prevented 
its  being  fully  understood  by  all.  His  calm  dignity 
of  demeanor  was  not  unfrequently  deemed  an  indica- 
tion of  coldness  or  hauteur.  Never  a  greater  mistake. 
His  heart  was  far  warmer,  and  his  feelings  kindlier, 
than  could  be  judged  from  his  modest  reticence  and 
his  shrinking  reserve  of  manner. 

At  New-Berne,  there  was  a  long  season  of  compar- 
ative quiet.  As  the  spring  months  passed  away,  Camp 
grew  restive. 

"  Save  me,"  he  wrote,  "  from  a  summer  in  New- 


LIFE   AT    NEW-BERNE.  6/ 

Berne,  or  any  other  one  place.  Our  life,  except  when 
in  active  service,  is  mere  machine-work,  at  best ;  en- 
durable, even  enjoyable,  by  way  of  preparation  for 
something  better,  but,  as  a  '  regular  beverage,'  alto- 
gether insipid  and  flat.  Our  wits  grow  rusty  in  this 
treadmill  business, — that's  the  worst  of  it.  I  was 
beginning  awhile  ago  [on  the  transport]  to  fear  that 
the  result  of  our  campaigning  would  be  in  having 
more  brains  softened  from  within  than  perforated  from 
without." 

Yet  New-Berne  life  was  not  without  its  activities. 
Picketing  in  the  face  of  the  enemy  was  something  new 
to  the  soldiers  of  the  Tenth ;  and  there  was  an  occa- 
sional alarm  or  skirmish  on  the  outer  lines,  that  gave 
zest  to  the  service.  Of  the  first  march  to  the  picket 
front,  Camp  wrote  : — 

"  All  the  negro  huts  in  the  outskirts  sent  out  large 
delegations  to  the  gates  to  watch  us  go  by,  evidently 
enjoying  the  sight  hugely.  One  old  woman  stood  in 
her  doorway,  beaming  upon  us  most  graciously,  and 
addressing  us  as  we  came  opposite,  '  I  hopes  you  is  all 
well,  genlin,'  getting  a  volley  of  answers  from  our  men." 

It  was  on  one  of  the  earlier  tours  of  picket-duty  that 
Camp's  coolness  and  courage  stood  out  prominently 
in  an  emergency.  Another  lieutenant  had  taken  out 
a  scouting-party  of  a  dozen  men,  beyond  the  lines,  to 
obtain  information,  and,  if  possible,  to  pick  up  a  pris- 
oner or  two ;  having  been  told  by  the  negroes  that 
small  squads  of  the  enemy  sometimes  came  down  to 


68  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

within  a  short  distance  of  the  Union  position.  While 
this  party  was  out,  Captain  Otis  and  Lieutenant  Camp 
were  eating  dinner  in  a  cabin  near  the  picket-reserve, 
"  when  suddenly,"  as  Camp  described  it,  "  while  we 
were  enjoying  our  hoe-cake  and  bacon,  two  or  three 
of  the  negroes  in  the  cabin  exclaimed  in  a  low  tone, 
'  De  Southerners  comin' !  de  Southerners  comin' ! '  We 
seized  our  swords,  which  we  had  laid  aside  so  as  to 
eat  with  more  comfort,  and  stepped  to  the  door  just  as 
one  of  the  cavalrymen  dismounted  from  a  horse,  pant- 
ing and  covered  with  sweat.  '  Every  one  of  your  men,' 
said  he,  '  is  killed  or  taken  prisoner ! '  A  glance  showed 
that  he  did  not  refer,  as  one  would  naturally  think,  to 
our  reserve  across  the  way ;  and  we  knew  he  must  be 
speaking  of  the  scouting-party.  The  affair  had  taken 
place,  he  said,  a  few  minutes  before,  at  a  distance  of 
two  or  three  miles.  The  enemy  were  still  advancing, — 
a  large  force  of  cavalry.  He  and  two  others  had  put 
their  horses  to  speed,  and  escaped ;  but  all  those  on 
foot,  and  one  or  two  of  the  mounted  men,  were  either 
shot  or  taken.  By  this  time,  the  other  two  came  in 
sight,  their  horses  on  the  full  run.  I  half  expected  to 
see  the  rebels  on  their  heels;  but  they  drew  rein,  and 
came  up  to  report.  Their  story  was  less  alarming  than 
that  of  the  first, — who  was,  I  think,  the  most  frightened 
fellow  I  ever  saw.  They  said  our  men  had  been  sur- 
prised by  a  party  of  cavalry,  and  had  taken  to  the 
woods.  They  had  seen  none  killed  or  taken,  though 
several  volleys  were  fired, — couldn't  be  sure,  however, 


VOLUNTEERING   FOR   A   SCOUT.  69 

being  hard  pressed  themselves,  and  only  saved  by  the 
speed  of  their  horses  and  the  poor  aim  of  the  enemy. 
We  saw  that  we  ourselves  were  in  no  danger;  and  the 
reserve,  which  had  been  called  to  arms,  was  dismissed." 

It  was  no  slight  evidence  of  character,  for  a  young 
lieutenant,  inexperienced  in  border  warfare,  to  rise  at 
once  above  the  influences  of  a  picket  alarm,  at  that 
stage  of  the  war,  and  propose  to  go  out,  in  the  face  of 
the  enemy,  to  the  rescue  of  his  endangered  comrades. 
Lieutenant  Camp's  impulse  prompted  him  to  an  instant 
suggestion  of  this  kind. 

"I  thought,"  he  wrote,  "that  a  party  ought  to  be 
sent  out  immediately  to  find  our  men,  who  were  prob- 
ably in  the  woods,  not  daring  to  retake  the  road  until 
they  were  certain  that  the  enemy  had  retired.  Cap- 
tain Otis  finally  said,  that,  if  the  men  chose  to  volun- 
teer, he  wouldn't  object."  Volunteers  being  called  for, 
eight  men  of  the  Tenth  came  promptly  forward.  Be- 
sides these,  four  of  the  horsemen — artillerymen  acting 
as  cavalry — were  induced  to  go  along  as  advance 
skirmishers ;  and  Camp  started  at  once  on  his  scout. 
His  cavalry  did  not  please  him.  "  Their  failing,  cer- 
tainly, wasn't  lack  of  vigilance.  They  walked  their 
horses,  with  revolvers  drawn,  and  one  eye  cocked 
over  the  shoulder,  ready  to  run.  My  men,"  he  added, 
with  pride  in  the  brave  fellows,  "  would  have  marched 
straight  upon  Goldsborough,  if  I  had  only  asked  them 
to."  The  enterprise  was  entirely  successful.  The 
scattered  party  were  found,  a  few  at  a  time,  until  there 


7<D  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

was  but  one  missing  and  unaccounted  for.  "As  there 
then  was  no  more  than  time  to  go  back  before  sunset, 
it  seemed  unwise  to  wait  any  longer ;  and  we  returned, 
having  at  length  accomplished  what  we  went  out  for. 
It  was  dark  when  we  reached  the  reserve ;  and  they 
had  begun  to  grow  anxious  about  us,  having  expected 
us  back  hours  before.  The  other  man  came  in  the 
next  morning,  having  spent  the  night  in  the  woods. 
The  whole  thing  ended  much  better  than  any  of  us 
anticipated." 

In  the  full  and  free  sketches  of  such  exploits  as  this, 
in  his  home  letters,  never  a  boastful  word  is  found  of 
his  own  performance,  although  praise  is  given  heartily 
to  all  who  were  with  him,  and  did  well.  His  modesty 
equaled  his  courage  and  his  nobleness. 

Each  new  call  upon  his  energies  seemed  to  give 
Camp  fresh  satisfaction  in  his  work.  "  I  am  contented 
now,"  he  wrote,  "  for  the  first  time  in  three  years.  It 
doesn't  seem  as  if  the  old  fret  ever  need  come  back, — 
perhaps  it  will."  Then,  as  showing  that  his  heart  was 
in  no  degree  weaned  from  the  loved  ones  at  home,  he 
added,  "  I  never  realized  before,  as  I  do  now,  the  dif- 
ference between  a  dear  old  New  England  home  and 
the  rest  of  the  world.  I  long  to  see  you  all, — you 
know  how, — but  not  enough  to  wish  to  leave  unfinished 
that  which  we  came  to  do.  I  want  to  see  a  workman- 
like job  made  of  it, — no  botch-work.  I  want  to  help 
put  in  the  last  touches,  and  then  won't  we  all  be  glad 
to  come  back  ?  You  know  how  I  felt  about  it  when 


LIVING   TO    A    PURPOSE.  /I 

I  left  home:  I  feel  just  so  now.  I  have  always  been 
glad  that  I  came,  and  think,  whether  I  return  or  not, 
that  I  always  shall  be." 

In  response  to  the  suggestion,  from  home,  that  he 
ought  to  be  satisfied  with  going  into  danger  when  he 
was  ordered  there,  he  wrote  : — 

"  As  to  volunteering,  its  being  my  duty  simply  to 
obey  orders,  etc., — I  am  sure,  when  you  think  of  it, 
that  you  would  have  me  do  as  much,  not  as  little,  as 
possible.  I  certainly  won't  run  any  unnecessary  risks, 
— risks  which  it  is  not  necessary  that  somebody  should 
run ;  but,  when  there  is  work  to  be  done,  I  want  to 
do  it.  That,  you  know,  was  the  idea  with  which  I 
started,  and  the  more  opportunity  I  have  to  carry  it 
into  practice,  the  more  I  shall  feel  as  though  I  were 
accomplishing  my  object.  If  men  are  sent  where  they 
should  not  be,  the  more  need  they  have  of  officers  to 
lead  them  through  with  as  little  loss  as  possible,  and 
neutralize  a  blunder,  if  it  is  a  blunder,  by  all  the  means 
which  can  be  used.  For  my  own  sake,  as  well  as  for 
yours, — and  that  I  may  accomplish  the  more, — I  in- 
tend to  be  prudent,  and  do  nothing  fool-hardy,  or  that 
my  calm  judgment  doesn't  approve.  What  it  does,  I 
know  you  would  not  have  me  avoid." 

Henry  Camp  wished  to  live  to  a  purpose,  and,  if  he 
must  die,  to  die  to  a  purpose.  His  desire  was  to  be 
where  he  could  accomplish  most  for  the  cause  that 
had  his  heart.  He  did  not  seek  his  own  advancement. 
He  did  not  crave  a  place  of  danger.  But  he  was  never 


72  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

content,  except  at  the  post  of  duty  ;  and  he  longed  for 
that  to  be  just  where  his  every  blow  would  be  most 
effective  for  the  right.  Referring  to  unimportant 
scouts  from  New-Berne,  and  to  trifling  engagements 
on  the  picket-line,  he  said, — 

"  There  would  be  no  satisfaction  at  all  in  being  shot 
or  captured  in  one  of  these  miserable  little  skirmishes 
where  neither  side  could  possibly  gain  anything  worth 
a  single  life, — a  very  different  thing  from  falling  in 
battle." 

Again  he  wrote  : 

"I  should  like  to  have  a  share  in  the  grand  blows 
of  the  Army  of  the  East.  Our  out-of-the-way  per- 
formances, down  here,  don't  seem  to  amount  to  much 
by  themselves ;  and  yet  we've  had  sharp  work, — it's 
no  exaggeration  to  say  so.  The  list  of  casualties 
looks  small  alongside  of  what  you  read  of  in  the  great 
battles  of  the  West ;  yet,  when  you  come  to  compare 
the  numbers  engaged,  we  lost  as  many  in  four  hours 
at  New-Berne  as  they  did  in  two  days  at  Pittsburg 
Landing,  or  in  three  at  Fort  Donelson, — as  large  a 
percentage,  I  mean,  of  course." 

Later,  when  General  McClellan's  Peninsular  cam- 
paign was  at  its  height,  he  wrote  in  the  same  strain : 

"  We  groan  in  spirit  at  having  to  stay  here  idle  while 
the  fight  at  Richmond  is  so  fierce,  every  man  needed, 
— every  man  there  worth  a  hundred  elsewhere.  Noth- 
ing else  that  the  war  can  bring  forth  will  furnish  cause 
for  so  proud  a  satisfaction  as  to  have  thrown  one's 


LONGING  TO    BE   SERVICEABLE.  /3 

weight  into  the  scale  while  the  balance  yet  trembled. 
What  is  left  to  do  will  be  boys'  play  in  comparison, — 
as  has  been  all  before  on  this  side  the  Alleghanies. 
When  the  race  is  won,  there's  nothing  like  feeling  that 
you  pulled  a  good  oar  on  the  home  stretch."  Then, 
as  showing  his  real  interest  in  hard  service,  he  added, 
"  I  don't  want  to  fight  for  the  sake  of  fighting,  but  for 
the  sake  of  accomplishing  something  that  will  tell 
upon  the  grand  result."  For  that  grand  result  he  was 
ready  to  toil  or  to  suffer,  or  willing,  if  need  be,  to  wait. 
"I  have  chosen,"  he  said,  "the  sphere  in  which  I  think 
I  can  work  most  efficiently  for  God  and  my  Country; 
and,  if  we  have  thirty  years'  war  instead  of  three,  I 
expect  to  see  it  through, — or  as  much  of  it  as  comes 
in  my  lifetime." 


CHAPTER  V. 

CAMP   LIFE  AND   CAMPAIGNING. 

kHERE  were  thrilling  incidents  in  war  life 
at  the  South,  apart  from  those  of  battle. 
Camp's  experiences  and  observations 
among  the  freed  slaves  at  New-Berne 
gave  point  to  many  a  home  letter  from 
him,  and  were  much  in  his  thought.  His  descriptions 
in  this  sphere  were  as  vivid  as  those  of  his  battle  life. 

"Did  I  tell  you,"  he  wrote,  "about  the  family  of 
fugitives  that  came  in  while  we  were  out  on  picket? 
I  was  on  duty  at  the  time.  One  of  the  men  called  me, 
saying  that  some  one  wished  to  pass  our  lines.  I 
came  to  the  post  where  they  had  been  stopped,  and 
there  were  two  negro  women  with  a  swarm  of  little 
things, — one  or  two  in  their  arms;  one  or  two,  hardly 
big  enough  to  walk,  carrying  others.  They  had  come 
five  miles  that  night;  their  masters  intended  to  send 
them  up  country  the  next  day ;  they  had  got  wind  of 
it,  and  seized  the  only  chance  of  escape.  I  asked  how 
74 


AN    INSIDE   VIEW    OF   SLAVERY.  75 

many  children  they  had.  '  She  have  four  head,  and  I 
four.'  (So  many  head, — that's  the  way  these  darkies 
talk.)  I  don't  see  how  they  could  have  done  it;  little 
barefooted  toddlers ! — some  of  them,  trotting  along  in 
their  nightgowns  as  if  they  had  just  come  out  of  a  warm 
bed,  instead  of  having  tramped  five  miles  in  the  cold 
and  dark;  but  there  wasn't  one  of  them  whimpering,  or 
making  the  least  fuss  about  it, — poor  little  things !  I 
didn't  keep  them  long  with  questions, — passed  them, 
of  course;  but  advised  them,  now  that  they  were  safe 
within  our  lines,  to  spend  the  rest  of  the  night  in  a 
deserted  house  near  by,  and  so  they  did.  Their  mis- 
tress, a  widow  of  strong  secesh  sympathies,  came  into 
town  next  day.  '  She  wanted  to  see  General  Foster.' 
I  don't  know  what  was  the  object  or  result  of  the  in- 
terview ;  but  I  think  it  safe  to  say,  she  didn't  get  back 
the  runaways." 

Another  of  his  stones  concerning  this  class  of  peo- 
ple was  published  at  the  time  in  the  Hartford  Evening 
Press,  and  copied  widely  : 

"  I  was  in  a  negro  house  yesterday,  and  had  some 
conversation  with  the  inmates.  I  asked  one  gray- 
headed  old  negress  if  she  had  ever  had  children  sold 
away  from  her.  *  Sold  !  dey  all  sold  !  chil'en  an' 
gran'chil'en  an'  great-gran'chil'en, — dey  sell  ebry  one ! ' 
She  clasped  her  bony  hands  over  her  head,  and  looked 
up  at  me  as  she  spoke,  '  Dere  was  one — de  lass  one — 
de  on'y  gran'chile  I  did  hab  lef.  He  neber  knowed 
his  mammy.  I  took  him  when  he  dat  little.  I  bringed 


76  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

him  up  to  massa,  an'  I  say,  "  Massa,  dis  my  little  gran'- 
chile :  may  I  keep  him  'bout  heah  ?  "  An*  he  says, 
"  I  don'  care  what  you  do  wid  him."  So  I  take  him; 
he  dat  little.  Den  one  mornin',  when  he  all  rolled  up 
in  blanket  'tween  my  knees,  Massa  Green  com'd  in, 
an'  say,  "  Dis  boy  sold;"  and  dcy  take  him  'way !  O 
Lord  Jesus,  help  me  pray!' 

"I  can't  begin  to  do  justice  to  the  way  in  which  she 
told  me  this,  nor  describe  the  earnestness  of  voice  and 
gesture  which  made  it  impressive.  I  wish  some  of 
our  Northern  editors,  who  cringe  just  as  abjectly  as 
ever  before  their  old  masters,  and  howl  in  such  con- 
sternation whenever  it  seems  likely  that  the  war  may 
interfere,  directly  or  indirectly,  with  their  pet  devil- 
try,— I  wish  some  of  them  could  have  heard  and 
seen  her. 

"I  made  further  inquiries  about  the  old  woman's 
grandchild.  He  is  now,  it  seems,  somewhere  near 
Raleigh.  She  seemed  wonderfully  comforted  when  I 
told  her  that  we  meant  to  go  up  there  by  and  by,  and 
I  hoped  we  should  find  him.  She  seemed  to  take  it 
in  the  light  of  a  promise;  and  I  heard  her,  just  before 
I  went  out,  saying  to  herself,  '  Bress  de  Lord  ! — bress 
de  Lord !  I  shall  see  my  gran'chile  again ! '  Poor  old 
creature!  I  hope  she  won't  be  disappointed." 

Then,  as  expressive  of  his  own  views  of  the  "  pet 
deviltry,"  he  added: 

"  It  can't  be  but  that  this  war  will  kill  slavery ;  and 
if  it  does,  cost  what  it  will  of  our  blood,  and  your 


FIGHTING   FOR   GOVERNMENT.  77 

tears,  and  every  man's  money,  it  won't  be  too  much. 
Don't  you  think  so  ?  I  know  you  do.  Not  that  I've 
changed  my  ideas  as  to  the  ultimate  object  of  the  war; 
but  I  am  more  firmly  convinced  than  ever  that  the 
destruction  of  slavery  is  one  of  the  means  indispensa- 
ble to  the  end." 

His  "ideas  as  to  the  ultimate  object  of  the  war" 
were  fully  set  forth  on  a  later  occasion.  He  longed 
and  hoped  and  prayed  for  the  end  of  slavery.  He 
fought  for  government  as  a  divinely  ordained  power. 
His  sympathies  were  with  the  cause  of  universal  free- 
dom. His  work  of  war  was  for  the  maintenance  of 
law  and  order, — "Work,"  he  said,  "which  I  am  as  sure 
that  God  approves  as  I  am  sure  that  he  designs  to 
have  order  and  law  prevail  throughout  the  universe 
over  chaos  and  anarchy." 

"What  on  earth  have  I  said,"  he  added,  "to  give 
you  the  idea  that  I  am  righting,  not  for  the  Govern- 
ment, but  the  abolition  of  slavery?  Exactly  the 
reverse.  It  is  the  maintenance  of  the  Government  that 
I  consider  the  object,  and  the  only  object  of  the  war; 
abolition,  one  of  the  means,  but  no  more.  I  think  as 
ill  of  slavery  as  you  do :  I  believe,  with  you,  that  it  is 
the  cause  of  the  rebellion,  and  that  it  must  be  crushed 
wherever  rebellion  exists ;  but  I  fight  for  the  preserva- 
tion of  the  Republic,  not  for  the  abolition  of  slavery, 
because  I  consider  the  former  the  nobler  and  more 
important,  object, — the  object  for  which  the  latter  is  but 
a  means.  Strike  at  the  root,  you  say.  Yes;  but  why  ? 


/8  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

Because  the  poisonous  growth  is  killing  that  which  it 
is  my  highest  aim  to  keep  alive  and  flourishing.  It  is 
not  always  the  cause  of  an  evil  that  must  be  made  the 
great  object  of  an  attack  in  remedying  its  effects. 

"  Government  is  the  human  embodiment  of  law,  and 
law  is  the  central  idea  of  the  universe.  '  Liberty  for 
ever  and  for  all/  is  a  taking  watchword;  and  a  thou- 
sand will  catch  it  up  as  the  expression  of  their  highest 
aim,  where  one  will  adopt  the  far  higher  and  nobler 
one  of  universal  law.  Among  free  moral  agents,  per- 
fect liberty  involves  inevitable  abuse,  incalculable  sin 
and  suffering.  Perfect  law  would  be  the  acquiescence 
of  all  in  God's  plans, — the  unquestioned  supremacy  of 
his  will.  Of  the  two  abstractions,  therefore,  I  choose 
the  latter;  and,  when  they  become  embodied  in  ma- 
terial forms  for  which  a  man  can  fight,  I  will  fight  for 
the  Republic — which  is  the  concrete  expression,  how- 
ever imperfect,  of  the  higher — rather  than  for  the 
emancipation  of  four  million  negroes,  which  is  the 
corresponding  outgrowth  of  the  lower. 

"As  to  the  soundness  or  unsoundness  of  the  Ad- 
ministration, my  action  is  independent  of  it.  Govern- 
ment and  the  ideas  behind  it — the  Nation  and  its 
republican  institutions  — are  what  I  fight  for,  not 
Abraham  Lincoln  or  his  advisers.  There's  nobody 
that  I  dislike  more  than  a  young  old  fogy.  I  don't 
think  I'm  in  any  danger  of  being  generally  so  con- 
sidered ;  but,  if  public  opinion  does  run  wild,  I  sha'n't 
try  to  keep  up  with  it.  It  will  settle  back  again  by 


WORDS    OF    CHRISTIAN    COUNSEL.  79 

and  by.  We  shall  see  whether  I  am  behind  it  ten 
years  from  now." 

It  was  during  the  spring  and  summer  in  New-Berne 
that  Camp  wrote  most  of  those  letters  to  his  college 
classmate,  which  are  referred  to,  in  the  earlier  pages 
of  this  volume,  as  being  so  richly  blessed  to  their  re- 
cipient. There  is,  perhaps,  nothing  remaining  of  his 
writings,  more  clearly  expressive  of  his  religious  views 
and  convictions  than  the  subjoined  extracts  from  those 
letters  : 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  from  you,  which  is  the  next 
best  thing  to  seeing  you,"  he  wrote,  in  his  first  of  the 
series,  "and  still  more  glad  to  hear  that  your  interest 
in  religious  subjects  still  continues.  You  know  I 
never  could  say  what  I  wanted  to  say.  I  am  afraid  I 
shall  find  it  even  more  difficult  to  write  what  I  want 
to  write.  I  am  rejoiced  that  you  find  yourself  making 
progress, — that  you  have  conquered  the  theoretical 
difficulties  which  formerly  troubled  you;  and  yet,  I 
cannot  but  fear,  from  what  you  say,  that  you  have 
paused  before  still  more  serious  obstacles.  As  far  as 
intellectual  conviction  of  the  truth  and  excellence  of 
Christianity  goes,  a  man  can  carry  himself, — though  I 
think  I  can  see  the  hand  of  God  leading  you,  uncon- 
sciously perhaps  to  yourself  even  there;  but,  beyond 
that,  comes  a  barrier  which  cannot  be  passed  without 
one's  earnest  call  for  and  acceptance  of  help  from 
above,  voluntarily  sought,  and  freely  given. 

"  I  think  I  know  exactly  what  you  mean  when  you 


8O  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

say  you  have  not  interest  enough  in  the  matter  to  pray. 
I  used  to  feel  the  same.  I  do  still,  far  oftener  than  I 
ought,  or  wish  to ;  but  there  are  other  times  when  I 
wonder  at  myself,  when  I  seem  to  realize,  in  some  faint 
degree,  the  real  and  infinite  importance  of  these  things, 
and  when  it  seems  to  me  strange  that  I  can  take  any 
interest,  comparatively,  in  other  matters.  I  wish  I 
knew  how  to  present  the  motives  to  a  Christian  life  as 
they  appear  to  me  then.  Passing  by,  for  the  present, 
those  of  reward  and  punishment,  considered  merely 
as  such,  let  us  look  for  a  moment  at  another, — one 
which  has  often  struck  me  with  great  force,  and  must, 
I  think,  have  weight  with  a  mind  constituted  like  your 
own. 

"We  are  just  at  the  commencement  of  a  life  with 
which  this  one  compares  only  as  time  compares  with 
eternity ;  whose  interests  are  to  those  of  the  present 
as  the  infinite  to  the  finite.  Admitting  the  truth  of 
the  Christian  religion,  its  hearty  and  thorough  accept- 
ance is  the  only  preparation  we  can  now  make  for  this 
future;  and  the  entrance  upon  a  real  Christian  life  is 
the  entrance  upon  the  first  stage  of  progress  toward 
all  that  is  worthy  to  be  made  an  end  to  a  reasoning 
and  immortal  being, — all,  in  short,  that  is  worthy  of  a 
man.  It  is  at  this  point  that  we  must,  at  some  time, 
start,  if  we  are  ever  to  take  up  earnestly  the  pursuit 
of  the  highest  good,  if  we  are  ever  to  enter  upon  the 
life  of  truest  manliness.  Until  we  have  reached  this, 
we  are  living  to  no  real  purpose;  we  have  not  com- 


A    MAN'S    HIGHEST    IDEAL.  8 1 

menced  the  work  which  is  to  be  the  work  of  our 
existence.  Is  it  worth  while  to  live  for  anything  less  ? 
Are  not  our  energies,  in  effect,  wasted,  unless  we  de- 
vote them,  not  only  to  that  which  is  noble  and  excel- 
lent, but  to  that  which  is  noblest  and  most  excellent? 
And  is  not  every  day  lost  until  we  begin  to  act  up  to 
this  belief? 

"  Surely  there  is  no  ideal  which  one  can  set  before 
himself  higher  than  that  of  a  life  whose  mainspring  is 
duty, — with  all  that  seems  hard  and  cold  in  that  word 
softened  and  warmed  by  a  love  that  turns  trial  and 
difficulty  into  joy :  the  same  feeling  which  makes  pleas- 
ant a  service  rendered  to  a  dear  earthly  friend  intensi- 
fied, as  is  fitting,  toward  Him  who  has  done  and  suf- 
fered more  for  us  than  we  can  ever  comprehend,  until 
we  see  him  face  to  face  and  know  him  even  as  we  are 
known.  Is  there  not  something  in  this  to  rouse  an 
earnest  man  to  vigorous  effort  ?  something  worth  striv- 
ing for  with  the  whole  soul  ?  Then,  why  wait  for  feel- 
ing ?  It  will  not  come  at  the  bidding  of  the  will.  Why 
not  enter  at  once  upon  the  course  which  understand- 
ing and  conscience  approve  ?  Why  not  obey  them  in 
this,  as  you  would  in  anything  else? 

"  Just  here  comes  a  difficulty.  He  who  resolves  to 
do  this  just  as  he  may  have  resolved  to  carry  out 
former  purposes, — by  the  force  of  his  own  determina- 
tion, relying  upon  that  and  that  alone, —  inevitably 
fails.  He  may  live  a  moral  life,  a  philanthropic  life, 
one  which  gains  for  him  the  highest  respect  and  esteem 

6 


82  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

of  his  fellow-men ;  but  when  he  comes  to  compare  it 
with  the  strict  requirements  of  God's  law,  he  finds  the 
standard  too  high,  hopelessly  beyond  his  reach,  though 
he  spends  life  in  the  effort  to  attain  it.  The  longer  he 
tries  in  this  way,  the  lower  he  falls.  There  is  nothing 
left  but  an  utter  abandonment  of  trust  in  one's  own 
exertions,  and  a  simple  leaning  on  Christ  for  his  sup- 
port, his  aid  in  living  a  life  of  obedience  to  his  will,  and 
his  pardon  for  all  its  thousand  imperfections.  He 
stands  ready  ;  only  '  knock,  and  it  shall  be  opened 
unto  you.' 

"  I  think  you  strike  the  key-note  of  your  difficulties, 
when  you  say,  '  I  have  hitherto  relied  solely  upon  my- 
self.' That  is  what  keeps  you  at  a  stand-still,  the  effort 
1  to  solve  the  problem  '  for  yourself.  It  is  hard  to  give 
it  up, — hard  to  bend  one's  pride  to  the  acknowledg- 
ment of  weakness  and  dependence.  The  way  is  nar- 
row ;  but  unless  we  become  as  little  children  in  our 
humility,  there  is  no  entrance  for  us  into  the  kingdom 
of  heaven.  So  far  from  being  really  a  degradation,  it 
is  the  highest  test  of  true  nobility  of  soul,  that  it  should 
be  willing  to  take  the  place  which  God  created  it  for, — 
the  highest  privilege  to  come  into  harmony  with  his 
great  system,  to  enjoy  his  direct  and  conscious  per- 
sonal influence,  to  feel  the  joy  of  his  approval. 

"  I  am  afraid  I  have  preached  you  more  of  a  sermon 
than  you  will  care  to  read ;  but  I  have  spoken  plainly 
and  earnestly,  because  it  is  to  a  dear  friend.  How  I 
should  rejoice  to  know  that  you  had  at  length  found 


CALL  TO   A   CHRISTIAN    DECISION.  83 

what  you  have  sought  and  your  friends  have  sought 
for  you  !  It  is  now  some  years  that  I  have  remem- 
bered you  in  my  prayers ;  with  such  encouragement, 
I  certainly  shall  not  now  forget  you  :  but  do  pray  for 
yourself.  Don't  fall  into  the  mistake  of  thinking  that 
you  must  wait  for  a  certain  degree  of  feeling.  If  you 
feel  that  you  need  God's  help,  and  are  willing  to  ask 
for  it,  that  is  enough.  He  is  more  willing  to  give  than 
you  to  receive,  if  you  will  only  be  persuaded  to  prove 
for  yourself  the  truth  of  all  these  things." 

Again  he  wrote:  "  It  is  encouraging  to  know  that 
you  feel  a  growth  in  your  moral  nature,  come  in  what 
shape  it  will ;  but  I  cannot  judge  from  what  you  say 
whether  you  have  reached,  or  are  still  on  this  side  of, 
the  point  which  must  be  passed  before  any  radical  and 
permanent  change  for  the  better  can  fairly  commence. 
One  may  stroll  forever  on  the  ground  outside  the  nar- 
row gate,  receding  or  advancing, — even  till  his  hand  is 
upon  the  latch  ;  but,  until  he  enters,  his  journey  along 
the  true  path  is  yet  to  begin. 

"  I  want  to  believe  that  your  decision  has  been  made, 
not  merely  to  experiment  awhile,  but,  relying  upon 
God's  help,  to  make  your  life  henceforth  no  longer 
your  own,  but  his.  Then,  however  feeble  your  faith, 
it  will  increase ;  however  slowly  you  move,  it  will  be 
in  the  right  direction.  Love,  as  you  say,  will  grow 
with  time  and  the  experience  of  God's  goodness  ;  cul- 
ture will  produce  its  effects.  I  do  hope  that  it  is  so 
with  you  ;  and  that  the  doubts  and  misgivings  of  which 


84  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

you  speak  will  vanish  with  the  steady  increase  of  light 
in  your  soul.  But  don't  think,  though  you  should 
remain  stationary,  or  even  go  backward,  that  you  have 
proved  whether  there  is  '  anything  in  it.'  Be  sure  that 
the  difficulty  is  in  yourself,  and  that  it  is  as  impossible 
that  God  should  refuse  to  hear  and  help  one  who  comes 
to  him  in  sincerity  and  humility,  as  that  he  should 
cease  to  exist.  The  universe  shall  sink  into  annihila- 
tion before  his  word  shall  fail." 

When,  at  length,  there  came  a  letter  giving  full 
assurance  of  faith,  on  the  part  of  the  friend  in  whom 
he  had  been  so  deeply  interested,  Camp  replied : — 

"  So  you  have  finally  entered  upon  a  Christian  life. 
You  do  not  know,  my  dear  fellow,  how  glad  I  am  to 
hear  it,  both  on  your  own  account,  and  my  own,  if  I 
have  been,  in  any  degree,  of  assistance  to  you.  You 
will  know,  I  hope,  some  time,  when  one  for  whom  you 
have  so  sincere  a  friendship  takes  the  same  step  which 
you  have  taken, — one  which  I  am  sure  you  will  rejoice 
in,  more  and  more,  the  longer  you  live." 

It  is  noteworthy  evidence  of  his  rarest  humility  and 
modesty,  that  Camp,  in  writing  to  his  home  of  the 
coming  to  Christ  of  this  friend  whom  he  had  been 
leading  with  such  fidelity  and  prayerfulness,  mentions 
several  who  might  have  had  an  influence  for  good  over 
his  classmate,  without  saying  a  word  of  his  own  agency 
in  the  matter ;  but  the  record  is  on  high,  and  all  the 
world  shall  know  it,  "  when  the  dead,  small  and  great, 
stand  before  God,  and  the  books  are  opened." 


LIFE   IN    HOSPITAL.  85 

Exposure,  on  guard  and  picket,  to  the  malarial  at- 
mosphere of  the  North  Carolina  nights,  brought  Camp 
down  with  chills  and  fever  during  the  summer  months  ; 
and  again  an  attack  of  jaundice  confined  him  in  the 
hospital.  His  sole  anxiety  seems  then  to  have  been 
lest  he  should  miss  some  active  service  with  his  regi- 
ment, or  disturb  his  friends  at  home  by  fears  as  to  his 
condition.  "  I  went  down  to  the  hospital,"  he  wrote, 
"  partly  to  consult  Dr.  Douglass,  and  partly  to  see  if 
they  had  any  cherries  left, — no  more  idea  of  staying 
there  than  of  cutting  up  any  other  foolish  caper;  but 
once  there,  and  they  had  me.  Dr.  Douglass  said  stay, 
and  stay  it  was.  So  I  am  luxuriating  again  on  a  mat- 
tress, between  cotton  sheets.  I  tell  you  about  my  play- 
ing sick,  because  I  suppose  I  must,  to  fulfil  literally 
my  part  of  our  compact;  but  you  mustn't  suppose 
there  is  anything  to  speak  of  the  matter  with  me,  be- 
cause there  isn't." 

His  stay  in  hospital  was,  however,  for  several  weeks, 
and  the  confinement  was  irksome  to  him.  "  It  is  quiet 
enough,  up  at  camp,"  he  said;  "but  you  know  that, 
there,  there  are  drills,  though  you  may  not  go  out  to 
them;  and  there  are  forty  little  things  to  discuss, — 
whether  the  colonel  was  exactly  right  in  the  order  he 
gave,  and  whose  fault  this  or  that  blunder  was,  and 
how  this  or  that  little  matter  of  company  business  is 
to  be  settled.  Here  it  is,  '  How  do  you  feel  this 
morning?'  -  'Anybody  die  last  night?'  'Doctor  been 
around  yet?'  And  after  he  has,  and  prescribed  the 


86  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

dose  for  the  day,  that  is  about  all,  until  night,  when 
bedtime  comes." 

Speaking  of  reported  orders  for  a  move  of  the  regi- 
ment, he  added:  "Wouldn't  I  be  provoked  to  have  to 
stay  here,  and  have  them  leave  me?  It  would  be 
worse  than  Roanoke."  To  his  bitter  sorrow,  the 
orders  came;  and  the  surgeon  positively  forbade  his 
accompanying  the  expedition,  telling  him  he  could 
not  go  five  miles  before  he  would  have  to  be  brought 
back.  In  his  disappointment,  he  said:  "Here  I  have 
been  impatient  to  get  away,  and  do  something,  fret- 
ting at  long  idleness,  ready  for  a  start  any  day  until 
now ;  and  now  the  time  comes,  the  move  is  made,  and 
I  am  fast.  If  I  were  really  sick,  down  with  a  fever, 
laid  up  with  a  broken  leg,  or  anything  of  that  sort, 
there  would  be  some  satisfaction  in  it:  I  should  know 
I  was  helpless,  and  make  up  my  mind  to  it.  But  to 
be  tied  down  by  this  miserable  little  bilious  difficulty, 
— to  be  upset  by  such  a  thing  as  this, — I  feel  like  some 
great  lubber  who  has  been  thrashed  by  a  youngster 
half  his  size,  and  sneaks  off  into  a  corner  to  hide  him- 
self. It's  more  of  a  disappointment  to  me  than  you 
will  probably  imagine." 

But  the  orders  for  his  regiment  were  counter- 
manded. General  Burnside  left  for  the  Army  of  the 
Potomac,  taking  with  him  Generals  Parke  and  Reno, 
and  their  commands,  constituting  the  newly  formed 
Ninth  Army  Corps;  while  General  Foster  remained 
in  command  of  the  district  of  North  Carolina,  retain- 


LONGING   FOR   A   FRIEND.  87 

ing  his  old  brigade,  with  some  additions  to  it.  In  the 
reorganization  of  the  troops,  the  Tenth  was  brigaded 
with  the  Twenty-fourth  Massachusetts,  the  Ninth  New 
Jersey,  and  the  Fifth  Rhode  Island  regiments,  under 
gallant  Colonel  (afterwards  General)  Stevenson,  of  the 
Twenty-fourth  Massachusetts. 

In  one  of  Camp's  letters  from  the  hospital  is  a  para- 
graph worthy  of  special  note  in  this  memoir,  prepared 
by  one  subsequently  his  intimate  friend,  but  not  as  yet 
his  army  comrade.  "I  have  been  reading  Captain 
Vicars's  Life  this  afternoon,  for  the  first  time.  He 
was  the  right  man  in  the  right  place, — -just  such  a  one 
as  one  or  two  whom  I  know  could  be,  and  only  one 
or  two.  Memoirs  like  his,  and  others  of  his  stamp, 
don't  affect  me  as  they  ought  to.  Such  men  are  too 
far  out  of  common  sight:  I  am  wretchedly  uncom- 
fortable when  I  read  of  them, — that  is  all.  I  wish  I 
could  get  hold  of  a  life  of  some  fellow  like  myself,  if 
there  ever  was  one, — which  I  honestly  don't  believe, 
— and  see  how  he  turned  out.  But  no, — catch  any 
such  memoir  as  that  being  given  to  the  public ! 

"  One  of  the  chief,  perhaps  the  chief,  privations  of 
being  away  from  home,  is  the  having  no  intimate 
friend, — no  one  with  whom  to  talk  freely ;  being  shut 
up  within  one's  self.  There  are  few  who  would  allow 
themselves  to  be  so,  but  you  know  I  have  no  social 
qualities  about  me.  I  am  very  particular :  there  are 
only  one  or  two  in  a  hundred  whom  I  would  have  for 
friends  anyhow,  and  those  one  or  two  I  haven't  the 


88  THE   KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

faculty  of  gaining;  and  the  result  is  that  I  am  as 
solitary  as  the  Sphinx.  How  I  should  enjoy  the  right 
fellow  for  a  chum  !  "  Why  this  connection  of  thought? 
Did  he  know  instinctively,  that,  if  he  had  an  intimate 
friend  who  should  outlive  him,  that  friend  would  give 
his  life-story  to  the  public  ? 

In  July,  1862,  Camp  was  advanced  to  a  first  lieu- 
tenancy, and  put  in  command  of  Company  D,  which 
he  greatly  improved  by  his  firm  and  judicious  dis- 
cipline, during  the  few  weeks  he  had  charge  of  it.  On 
the  5th  of  August  he  was  promoted  to  the  adjutancy 
of  the  regiment;  a  position  more  congenial  to  his 
tastes  and  acquirements  than  that  of  subaltern  in  the 
line.  His  first  experience  with  a  consolidated  report 
will  be  appreciated  by  any  one  who  has  had  the 
responsibility  of  such  a  mass  of  perplexing  figures  : 

"  I  finished  a  copy  of  the  consolidated  monthly  re- 
turn,—  the  principal  one, —  Tuesday  afternoon,  and 
carried  it  down  to  headquarters,  immensely  rejoiced 
to  have  it  done  with.  About  an  hour  afterward,  up 
came  an  orderly  to  my  tent,  'Adjutant  Camp's  report 
is  respectfully  returned  for  correction.'  I  was  thunder- 
struck, to  speak  moderately.  Hadn't  I  added  those 
figures  lengthwise  and  crosswise,  vertically,  horizon- 
tally, diagonally,  spherically,  and  miscellaneously  ? — 
got  'em  at  length  so  that  it  would  have  done  old 
Daboll  good  to  look  over  the  columns?  I  thought 
so ;  but,  come  to  examine  the  work  again,  there  were 
two  mistakes  for  which  the  serjeant-major  at  whose 


A    NEW   CHAPLAIN.  89 

dictation  I  had  copied,  was  responsible,  and  one  of  my 
own.  It  didn't  take  fifteen  minutes  to  straighten  them 
out ;  but  I  was  vexed  to  think  that  my  first  perform- 
ance should  have  been  a  boggle.  However,  it  did  me 
good  to  find  out  that  the  adj  utants  of  the  Twenty-fifth 
and  Twenty-seventh,  both  old  hands  at  the  business, 
had  blundered  in  theirs  too;  so  I  wasn't  alone.  I 
don't  intend  to  be  caught  again,  though." 

A  week  after  Camp  was  appointed  adjutant,  Chap- 
lain Hall — his  friend  and  college  classmate — resigned, 
and  left  the  regiment.  It  was  thus  that  Camp  wrote 
home  of  Hall's  successor  : 

"  I  wonder  if  you  know,  by  this  time,  whom  we  are 
probably  going  to  have  as  chaplain.  If  you  don't, 
you'll  be  very  glad  to  hear  it,  though  you'd  never 
guess  in  the  world, — Henry  Clay  Trumbull.  I  can't 
think  of  any  man  I  ever  knew  whom  I  should  be  so 
well  pleased  to  have  accept  it.  ...  I  am  selfish  about 
it,  too :  the  chaplain  and  I,  both  being  members  of  the 
staff,  will  see  a  great  deal  of  each  other,  and  be  thrown 
much  together." 

Chaplain  Trumbull,  whose  coming  was  so  pleasantly 
anticipated  by  Adjutant  Camp,  reached  the  regiment 
early  in  October.  The  two  comrades,  ordinary  friends 
before,  were  speedily  drawn  into  closest  intimacy. 
Away  from  home,  they  craved  personal  sympathy. 
Their  tastes  were  similar.  Their  characters  were  suf- 
ficiently unlike  to  be  in  harmony.  The  training  of  each 
was  such  that  he  possessed  what  the  other  deemed  his 


9O  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

lack.  One  had  a  finely  cultured,  richly  stored  mind ; 
the  other  a  fund  of  personal  experience.  The  opinions 
of  the  one  were  all  formed  from  the  study  of  under- 
lying principles ;  the  judgments  of  the  other  were 
based  upon  practical  observations.  Their  regimental 
duties  kept  them  near  each  other.  Their  home  friends 
being  side  by  side,  they  were  linked  in  every  interest. 

It  was  after  a  sacred  communion  service  in  the 
Presbyterian  Church  at  New-Berne,  at  which  Adjutant 
Camp  was  the  only  officer  present  with  the  chaplain 
from  their  regiment,  that,  in  a  midnight  talk,  they 
opened  their  hearts  to  each  other,  and  entered  upon 
that  life  of  peculiar  oneness  which  was  so  marked  to 
all  who,  thenceforward,  saw  them  together.  Like 
Jonathan  and  David,  when  they  "had  made  an  end  of 
speaking,"  at  that  time,  "the  soul  of  the  one  was  knit 
with  the  soul  of  the  other."  They  "made  a  covenant, 
because  each  loved  the  other  as  his  own  soul." 

During  the  month  of  October,  1862,  General  Foster 
was  largely  reinforced  by  nine-months'  regiments  from 
Massachusetts.  Of  these,  the  Forty-fourth  was  added 
to  Colonel  Stevenson's  brigade,  and  soon  became  a 
favorite  with  the  old  troops  of  the  command.  It  was 
composed  of  choice  material,  including  many  students 
from  Harvard.  Pleasant  acquaintances  were  made 
among  the  officers  and  men  of  the  newly  associated 
battalions. 

On  the  3Oth  of  October,  Stevenson's  brigade  left 
New-Berne  on  transports  for  Little  Washington,  the 


THE   TARBOROUGH    SCOUT.  9! 

Tenth  accompanying  General  Foster,  on  his  own  boat, 
the  Pilot  Boy.  At  the  same  time,  a  column  moved 
overland  to  Washington,  whence  an  expedition  set  out 
for  Tarborough  on  Sunday  morning,  November  2,  the 
Tenth  leading,  for  the  day,  the  infantry  advance. 
Before  night  had  fairly  shut  in,  the  enemy  was  found 
posted  in  the  woods,  just  beyond  a  troublesome  ford 
at  Little  Creek,  a  short  distance  below  Williamston, 
opening  fire  on  the  approaching  skirmishers  of  the 
Tenth.  The  latter,  reinforced  by  a  portion  of  the 
Forty-fourth,  charged  across  the  stream,  and  drove 
out  the  rebels,  capturing  several  prisoners  of  the 
Twenty -sixth  North  Carolina  Regiment,  of  which 
Governor  Vance  was  the  first  colonel. 

This  was  the  first  engagement  in  which  Camp  acted 
as  adjutant,  and  thus  was  brought  into  prominence 
before  all  the  regiment.  His  courageous  bearing  won 
warm  praise  from  the  men,  as,  by  the  side  of  brave 
Colonel  Pettibone,  he  pressed  forward  in  the  charge 
over  the  creek,  through  the  shower  of  bullets  and  the 
sweep  of  grape  from  the  enemy  in  unknown  force  in 
the  thicket  beyond.  "I  never  knew  what  Adjutant 
Camp  was  until  that  night,"  said  a  sergeant,  long  after- 
ward. "  I  saw  his  face  was  pale,  as  if  he  understood 
the  danger  [the  soldier  knows  the  difference  between 
the  bloodless  cheek  of  determination  and  the  pallor 
of  cowardice];  and  he  looked  just  as  if  he  was  ready 
to  go  anyzvhere,  as  he  ran  along  on  that  log  foot-bridge, 
and  cheered  on  the  men,  while  they  splashed  through 


92  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

the  water,  with  the  bullets  all  about  them.  I  always 
liked  him  after  that." 

The  enemy  was  pursued  rapidly  to  Rawl's  Mills, 
where,  at  midnight,  General  Foster  brought  up  his 
artillery  to  a  commanding  hill-crest,  and  rained  shot 
and  shell  upon  the  retreating  column.  After  an  ex- 
hausting day  of  twenty-two  hours  of  activity,  the 
troops  bivouacked  that  night  in  the  clear  moonlight, 
on  the  soft  clay  of  the  captured  line  of  works.  The 
next  morning,  Williamston  was  entered  without  oppo- 
sition, the  enemy  having  evacuated  it  during  the  night, 
and  most  of  the  citizens  having  fled,  terror-stricken, 
from  their  homes.  As  the  head  of  the  incoming 
column  reached  a  principal  street-corner  of  the  well- 
nigh  deserted  town,  a  party  of  Jack-tars  from  the 
Union  gunboats  which  had  just  come  up  the  Roanoke 
River  gave  an  unexpected  greeting  to  the  army,  by 
singing  the  stirring  song,  "We'll  rally  round  the  flag, 
boys !  "  and  roused  the  enthusiasm  of  the  soldiers  to 
the  highest  pitch. 

During  the  halt  of  several  hours  in  the  village,  there 
was,  in  spite  of  every  effort  to  prevent  it,  much  of  reck- 
less pillaging  and  wanton  destruction  of  private  prop- 
erty by  the  soldiers;  although  no  violence  or  insult 
was  offered  any  person.  Everything  eatable  was,  of 
course,  seized  at  once ;  and  at  each  street  corner,  and 
in  each  back-yard,  pork,  poultry,  and  beef  were  being 
cooked  in  the  most  primitive  style,  at  fires  kindled 
from  the  convenient  fence-palings,  or  articles  of  house- 


AT    WILLIAMSTON    AND    BEYOND.  93 

hold  furniture.  The  few  families  who  remained  seemed 
doubtful  if  even  their  lives  were  to  be  spared  by  the 
supposed  bloodthirsty  Yankees ;  and  it  was  with  dif- 
ficulty that  some,  whose  homes  were,  from  the  first, 
specially  guarded  against  intrusion,  could  be  induced 
to  refrain  from  loud  shrieks  for  mercy,  or  made  to 
believe  that  no  harm  was  intended  them,  and  that  no 
injury  would  be  done  their  property.  The  empty 
cradle  from  which  a  sick  child  had  been  hurried  away 
at  the  risk  of  its  life,  and  the  cot  from  which  a  con- 
sumptive patient  had  been  borne  out  beyond  the  limits 
of  the  town,  in  the  cold  night  air,  at  his  own  earnest 
request,  as  pointed  out  by  those  who  knew  the  story 
of  both,  touched  the  hearts  of  the  Union  officers,  and 
showed  to  all  how  thoroughly  misunderstood  in  the 
Southern  community  was  the  purpose  of  the  Federal 
army. 

Passing  on  from  Williamston,  the  column  rested  for 
the  night  in  an  extensive  cornfield  of  hundreds  of 
broad  acres,  presenting  a  scene  of  peculiar  picturesque- 
ness, — a  fire-lit  bivouac  of  thousands  of  armed  men, 
with  no  seeming  limit  to  the  stretch  of  blazing  piles 
and  clustered  groups  and  flashing  weapons  and  mov- 
ing forms,  all  overhung  by  the  illumined  smoke-clouds, 
with  the  glimmering  stars  beyond. 

The  next  day,  the  column  pressed  on  to  Rainbow 
Fort,  a  substantial  earthwork  on  a  high  bluff  above 
Roanoke  River,  flanking  the  position,  so  that  it  was 
evacuated  in  hot  haste ;  thence  to  Hamilton,  and  across 


94  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

the  country  to  Tar  River,  to  the  suburbs  of  Tar- 
borough.  Returning  to  Hamilton,  and  again  to  Wil- 
liamston,  it  moved  down  to  Jamesville,  and  on  to 
Plymouth,  where  it  took  transports  to  New-Berne; 
reaching  its  old  base  after  an  absence  of  two  weeks, 
having  marched  more  than  a  hundred  miles,  and 
moved  more  than  four  hundred  by  water. 

In  illustration  of  the  truth,  familiar  to  every  soldier, 
that  inaction  causes  far  more  complaint  and  discon- 
tent than  the  severest  service  in  campaigning,  Camp 
wrote,  in  one  of  his  letters  from  Little  Washington,  on 
this  expedition : 

"We  are  all  enjoying  the  return  to  active  service. 
Officers  and  men  alike  are  more  cheerful  than  for  a 
long  time  past.  More  enthusiasm  has  lain  concealed 
beneath  a  crust  of  grumbling  complaints  and  talk  of 
resignation  than  I  had  any  idea  of.  We  need  work, — 
that's  all, — to  keep  us  good-natured.  Ice  freezes  thick 
over  most  men's  patriotism  when  it  is  dammed  up,  so 
that  it  seems  to  have  utterly  vanished.  Only  open  the 
sluiceways  once  in  a  while,  and  the  current,  deep  as 
ever,  sweeps  it  away  in  a  twinkling,  and  again  runs 
free  and  strong." 

The  expedition  to  Tarborough  was  novel  in  its 
nature,  partaking,  in  many  features,  of  the  general 
character  of  Sherman's  march  through  Georgia.  There 
was  the  same  cutting  loose  from  the  base  of  supplies, 
the  depending  on  the  surrounding  country  for  sub- 
sistence, the  moving  through  a  tract  hitherto  unreached 


LAWLESS    FORAGING.  95 

by  the  devastations  of  war,  the  entering  one  town  after 
another  and  quartering  on  its  inhabitants,  the  visiting 
and  emptying  of  richly  stored  plantations  and  elegantly 
furnished  private  dwellings,  the  seizure  of  horses  and 
cattle  for  Government  use,  and  the  gathering  of  slaves 
to  give  them  freedom  in  a  new  home.  And  there  was 
the  same  inevitable  lawlessness  among  the  men  having 
part  in  such  an  expedition.  Passing  a  farm-house, 
they  would  dart  from  the  ranks  to  seize  a  fowl  or  to 
gather  a  cap  full  of  eggs,  to  bring  back  a  pail  of  sugar 
or  of  the  demoralizing  "  apple-jack,"  or  to  bear  off  a 
well-filled  hive,  with  "  two  bees  to  one  honey,"  as  they 
facetiously  expressed  it ;  and  in  a  twinkling  they  would 
ransack  a  dwelling  from  garret  to  cellar,  making  as 
great  havoc  with  those  things  utterly  useless  to  them- 
selves as  with  that  which  their  appetites  or  personal 
comfort  demanded. 

Camp  entered  heartily  into  all  the  legitimate  excite- 
ments and  enjoyments  of  the  expedition.  No  one  was 
more  ready  than  he  to  have  a  run  for  live  pork  or 
poultry  for  the  field  and  staff  mess,  or  for  company 
cooks,  while  all  were  dependent  on  what  could  thus 
be  secured ;  and  no  one  took  more  delight  than  he  in 
all  that  was  picturesque  or  delightful  in  the  surround- 
ing country.  But  he  never  forgot  the  dictates  of 
honor  or  humanity.  He  aided  in  soothing  alarmed 
households;  he  spoke  kind  words  to  the  sorrowing; 
and,  on  one  occasion,  when  he  saw  officers  making 
sport  of  neatly  tied  locks  of  hair  and  other  mementoes 


v  -r- 


96  THE   KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

of  the  loved  ones  of  a  scattered  family,  preserved  in  a 
quarto  dictionary,  he  watched  his  opportunity,  and, 
securing  the  volume  with  its  precious  contents,  hid  it 
in  a  remote  cupboard  of  the  house,  where  probably 
it  would  not  again  be  seen  until  the  proper  inmates 
returned  to  their  home. 

The  experiences  of  the  expedition  were  widely 
varied — in  weather,  face  of  country,  and  duties  of  the 
hour.  There  were  fair,  bright  days,  and  days  and 
nights  of  cheerless  storm,  cold  drenching  rain,  and 
even  frost  and  a  fall  of  snow.  There  were  the  low 
sand  plains  of  the  Southern  coast ;  and,  inland,  there 
were  hills  almost  like  New  England,  and  dense  woods, 
and  fertile  fields,  and  even  clear  purling  brooks,  as 
well  as  chocolate-colored  rivers ;  then  there  were 
North  Carolina  swamps.  Who,  that  has  ever  passed 
through  one  of  these,  will  fail  to  recognize  the  truth- 
fulness of  Camp's  description  of  it  ? — 

"  Perhaps  mother  knows  what  a  Southern  swamp  is. 
I  am  sure  the  rest  of  you  don't.  You'll  find  a  better 
description  of  it  in  '  Dred,'  than  I  can  give  you ;  but 
you  can't  realize  the  dismal  abominations  of  it  until 
you  see  them.  For  all  that,  it  is  pleasant  enough  to 
ride  through  them  on  a  bright,  cool  morning.  There  is 
something  grand  in  the  dark  impenetrability;  and  the 
huge  pines  that  lift  themselves  out  of  it  seem  as  if  they 
could  look  down  into  all  manner  of  inaccessible  re- 
cesses and  secret  hiding-places,  open  only  toward  the 
sky.  There  is  a  great  deal  that  is  beautiful,  even  in 


SOUTHERN    SCENERY.  97 

the  midst  of  the  swamp.  Trees  have  a  luxuriance  of 
growth,  and  density  of  cool,  fleshy,  solid  foliage,  that 
you  don't  see  at  home.  Even  the  same  varieties  have 
a  larger  leaf  and  thicker  twigs,  so  that  at  first  one 
hardly  recognizes  them.  There  are  thousands  of 
unfamiliar  vegetable  shapes, — vines,  and  shrubs,  and 
bushes,  with  odd  and  beautiful  leaves  and  flowers.  I 
think,  if  I  were  a  botanist  (or  still  more,  if  I  were  an 
entomologist,  though  I  haven't  enlarged  upon  that 
subject),  I  shouldn't  ask  for  anything  more  than  a 
square  rod  of  Southern  swamp,  to  give  me  occupation 
for  a  year." 

One  sunny  morning,  the  road  traveled  by  the  column 
wound  down  a  hill,  through  the  woods,  across  a  wide 
brook  spanned  by  a  rustic  bridge.  An  old  mill  showed 
itself  among  the  trees  at  the  left.  A  gum-canoe  floated 
near  the  bridge.  The  morning  light  struggled  down 
through  the  branches  of  pine  and  cypress  and  moss- 
hung  oaks.  The  bracing  air  of  the  morning  was 
exhilarating  to  the  now  refreshed  soldiers.  The  un- 
usual beauty  of  the  spot  and  the  influences  of  the  hour 
impressed  every  beholder ;  and,  as  the  head  of  the  first 
brigade  reached  the  bridge,  a  Massachusetts  regiment 
started  the  "John  Brown"  chorus.  The  next  regi- 
ment at  once  caught  up  the  strain,  and  it  passed  rapidly 
along  the  column,  until  the  rich  melody  rolled  up  from 
thousands  of  glad  voices,  far  up  and  down  the  wind- 
ing road,  thrilling  the  nerves  and  stirring  the  soul  of 
every  participant  and  listener.  Beyond  the  woods  the 

7 


98  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

country  opened  into  immense  plains,  showing  the 
yellow  corn,  the  rank  sorghum,  and  the  snow-flecked 
cotton-fields;  while  the  plantation-house  was  in  view, 
with  its  broad  piazzas,  its  rear  rows  of  negro  shanties, 
its  cotton-press  and  gin-house.  At  this  point  there 
was  a  halt;  and  the  joyous  singing  was  changed  to  no 
less  universal  and  hearty  cheering,  as  Major-General 
Foster, — the  admired  and  beloved  commander, — with 
his  staff,  rode  through  the  open  ranks  to  the  extreme 
front. 

Camp  enjoyed  such  an  hour  as  that,  as  he  did,  also, 
the  hour  of  social  worship,  when,  around  the  blazing 
fire,  officers  and  men  of  the  regiment  gathered  at 
evening  in  the  open  field  to  sing  and  to  pray,  and  to 
listen  to  God's  word.  One  evening,  at  a  bivouac  near 
Plymouth,  when  the  chaplain  missed  the  adjutant  for 
an  hour,  he  ascertained  that  the  latter,  in  crossing  the 
field,  had  found  a  prayer-meeting  of  another  regiment, 
and  had  stopped  to  enjoy  its  privileges  and  be  refreshed 
by  its  influence.  And  at  many  a  point,  the  quiet  woods 
could  tell  how  earnestly  he  pleaded  with  God  in  the 
morning  and  evening  hour  of  private  devotion. 

On  the  return  of  the  troops  from  the  Tarborough 
scout,  Colonel  Pettibone  resigned  command  of  the 
Tenth,  and  left  for  the  North,  Adjutant  Camp  accom- 
panying him  on  a  brief  leave  of  absence.  The  delights 
of  that  first  visit  home,  after  a  year  of  separation,  could 
not  be  better  described  than  in  the  few  telling  lines 
which  he  wrote  concerning  it  to  his  friend  in  camp : 


HOME   ONCE    MORE.  99 

"  Once  on  the  train  which  was  to  carry  me  straight 
home,  steam  seemed  very  slow.  There  was  a  con- 
stantly growing  thrill  of  excitement,  pleasant,  yet  with 
a  dash  of  anxious  pain.  If  then  I  were  to  meet  or  find 
anything  amiss !  I  was  driven  from  the  depot  as  near 
the  house  as  I  ventured  to  allow  a  carriage,  lest  its 
sound  should  betray  my  coming;  walked  softly,  with 
feet  that  hardly  felt  the  ground,  past  the  cheerfully  shin- 
ing windows,  to  the  rear  entrance ;  noiselessly  stepped 
along  to  the  library  door,  and  threw  it  open.  There 
they  were!  What  was  said  or  done  I  hardly  know. 
Oh,  the  joy  of  that  evening,  and  of  every  moment 
since !  I  wonder  if  you  have  ever  been  long  enough 
away  from  those  you  loved  to  know  it  thoroughly." 

It  was  while  Camp  was  at  home  at  this  time  that 
General  Foster  made  his  celebrated  Goldsborough 
Raid  from  New-Berne,  in  conjunction  with  Burnside's 
advance  on  Fredericksburg,  fighting  the  battles  of 
South-west  Creek,  Kinston,  Whitehall,  and  Golds- 
borough.  On  this  expedition,  the  Tenth  Regiment 
had  hard  service  and  won  dearly  bought  distinction, 
losing  in  twenty  minutes  more  than  a  hundred  men, 
with  some  of  its  best  officers,  in  the  fight  at  Kinston. 

Again  Camp  was  deeply  grieved  at  his  loss  of  a 
share  in  the  work  of  his  regiment  Nothing  had 
seemed  more  unlikely  than  such  an  expedition,  at  the 
time  he  went  North ;  and  his  surprise  was  a  great  as 
his  disappointment,  on  returning  to  New-Berne,  to  find 
that  his  regiment  had  been  some  ten  days  away.  He 


IOO  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

was  at  once  in  the  saddle  and  on  his  way  to  overtake 
his  command;  but  the  column  was  already  returning, 
and  he  met  it  but  a  few  'miles  from  the  city. 

"  So  I  am  about  a  week  too  late/'  he  wrote.  "  I 
would  give  more  than  that  of  life  to  have  been  in  that 
bayonet  charge.  My  absence  from  it,  like  that  from 
the  battle  of  Roanoke, — much  more,  even, — will  be  a 
life-long  disappointment  and  regret.  When  the  war 
is  over,  what  shall  /  have  done  ?  It  is  hard.  ...  I 
have  nothing  to  reproach  myself  with,  only  I  feel  like 
a  man  who  has  unfortunately  lost  a  magnificent  op- 
portunity." 

So  keenly  did  he  feel  this  disappointment,  that  when, 
shortly  after,  unusual  promotion  was  tendered  him,  he 
positively  refused  it,  preferring  that  it  should  advantage 
some  one  who  had  shared  the  perils  of  the  recent  ex- 
pedition. 

Burnside's  Fredericksburg  defeat  depressed  many 
in  the  army,  as  out  of  it;  but  Henry  Camp  never 
despaired  of  the  cause  which  had  his  heart;  nor  did 
he  admit  the  possibility  of  any  course  but  one  for 
government  or  people. 

"Has  the  North  pluck  enough  to  try  it  once  more?" 
he  wrote  after  his  return  to  New-Berne.  "  Now  is  the 
time  to  try  men.  I  am  astonished  at  the  way  some 
of  them  talk.  A  man  cannot  help  it  if  things  look 
dark  to  him, — they  do  to  me;  but  he  can  help  slacken- 
ing effort,  or  talking  in  a  way  to  slacken  others.  If 
every  man  would  set  his  teeth,  and  walk  straight  up  to 


WORTH    DYING    FOR. 


101 


meet  the  ruin  which  he  sees  coming,  it  would  vanish 
before  he  came  within  striking  distance ;  and,  let  worst 
come  to  worst,  the  nation  could  at  least  die  with  all 
its  wounds  in  front.  Better  so  than  to  sneak  into  its 
grave  a  few  years  later  with  scars  on  its  back." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  FIRST  CHARLESTON  EXPEDITION. 

NEW  expedition  was  talked  of.  Troops 
were  coming  from  Suffolk  to  New-Berne, 
and  a  naval  fleet  was  gathering  at  Beau- 
fort. Wilmington  was  aimed  at.  The 
division  to  which  the  Tenth  belonged  was 
to  remain  behind.  Adjutant  Camp  was  so  anxious  to 
atone  for  what  he  deemed  his  recent  loss  of  service, 
that  he  proposed  to  accompany  the  expedition  on  the 
staff  of  a  commander  of  another  division.  But,  at  the 
last  hour,  the  Tenth  was  ordered  to  move  also,  and 
Camp  gladly  remained  with  his  regiment. 

The  Tenth  left  New-Berne  by  railroad  for  Morehead 
City,  Monday,  January  26,  1863,  and  went  on  board  a 
transport  in  Beaufort  harbor  the  same  day.  The  ex- 
pedition planned  for  Wilmington  was,  on  account  of 
the  loss  of  the  original  " Monitor"  and  from  other 
causes,  turned  to  the  department  of  the  South.  Its 
destination  was  known  only  to  the  commanding  gen- 
102 


DEPARTMENT  OF  THE  SOUTH.          103 

eral,  until  the  sailing  orders  were  opened,  after  leaving 
the  harbor,  on  Saturday  morning.  The  trip  to  Port 
Royal  was  quickly  and  pleasantly  made.  The  satisfac- 
tion on  rinding  that  Charleston  was  the  point  aimed  at 
was  general  among  the  troops  of  the  expedition ;  and 
Camp  expressed  his  unfeigned  delight  at  the  prospect 
of  immediate  participation  in  a  movement  against  the 
nursery  of  disunion. 

An  unfortunate  difference  between  Generals  Hunter 
and  Foster,  resulting  in  the  return  of  the  latter  to 
North  Carolina  without  his  troops,  was  a  cause  of 
sad  disappointment  to  those  who  were  thus  parted 
from  the  commander  whom  they  loved  and  trusted 
without  measure  or  question.  The  officers  and  men 
of  the  Tenth  were  peculiarly  tried ;  for  they  had  been 
ordered  off  only  at  the  last  moment,  with  the  assur- 
ance that  they  were  to  be  away  from  camp  not  more 
than  ten  days,  or  at  the  outside  a  fortnight.  They 
had  left  behind  all  camp  and  garrison  equipage,  regi- 
mental and  company  papers,  personal  baggage  beyond 
what  was  necessary  for  a  short  tour  of  field-service, 
and  even  those  officers  and  men  who  were  not  strong 
enough  for  a  march  and  an  immediate  fight. 

The  order  to  land  on  St.  Helena  Island,  opposite  Hil- 
ton Head,  and  go  into  camp  while  thus  circumstanced, 
was  exceedingly  unsatisfactory ;  and  it  was  by  no  means 
easy  for  them  to  have  a  home  feeling,  even  as  soldiers, 
while  lacking  so  much  that  they  had  hitherto  deemed 
essential  to  enjoyable  camp  life.  But  they  adapted 


IO4  THE   KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

themselves  as  best  they  could  to  their  situation ;  and 
with  the  shelter-tents,  of  which  they  then  first  had 
experience,  supplemented  by  the  broad  leaves  of  the 
palmetto,  they  soon  had  an  attractive  army  settlement, 
with  its  embowered  chapel,  its  hedged  streets,  and  its 
neatly  finished  and  ornamented  quarters  for  officers 
and  men. 

The  long  delay  in  waiting,  with  anxious  and  often 
deferred  hope  for  active  operations  in  the  department, 
was  not  lost  time  to  the  troops  of  the  expedition.  They 
improved  the  passing  days  in  perfecting  their  drill  and 
discipline.  Indeed,  the  Tenth  Regiment  never  ap- 
peared better  in  drill,  or  on  parade  and  review,  than  at 
St.  Helena.  It  won  the  highest  commendations  from 
commanders  who  visited  or  reviewed  it.  Adjutant 
Camp  did  much,  even  in  the  subordinate  position  he 
then  held,  to  maintain  its  character  and  advance  its 
highest  interests.  Many  who  were  there  remember 
how  he  was  called  on  by  Lieutenant-Colonel  Leggett 
one  afternoon  to  conduct  the  battalion-drill,  and  how 
he  performed  his  task.  He  had  never  before  taken 
the  battalion  in  hand.  He  had  not  for  weeks  even 
attended  drill, — his  services  not  being  essential  there, 
and  neither  field  nor  staff  having  horses  with  them, — 
nor  had  he  five  minutes'  notice  that  he  was  to  be 
pressed  into  the  service.  He  said  aside  to  his  friend 
that  he  should  have  liked  ten  minutes  to  refresh  his 
mind  as  to  a  few  movements ;  but  he  made  no  excuse 
to.  his  commander.  Stepping  out  to  the  parade- 


SUNDAY-SCHOOL   WORK.  1 05 

ground,  he  relieved  his  seniors,  the  captains,  and  then 
for  an  hour  and  a  half  handled  the  regiment  so  easily 
and  correctly,  that  the  lieutenant-colonel  —  enthusi- 
astic and  accomplished  soldier  as  he  was — said  to 
him  in  the  presence  of  others,  that  evening,  that  it 
was  the  finest  battalion-drill  that  had  been  held  on 
the  island. 

Moreover,  Camp  was  rarely  absent  from  a  religious 
service  in  the  regiment ;  and,  although  always  loath  at 
home  to  have  his  voice  heard  in  public,  he  was  now 
ready  to  share  with  the  chaplain  in  the  exercises  of 
the  camp  prayer-meeting  or  the  Sunday-school,  and 
even  to  assume  the  conduct  of  either,  in  case  of  the 
illness  of  his  friend,  or  when  the  latter  was  unavoid- 
ably kept  away.  His  Sunday-school  experiences,  as 
he  then  described  them,  will  not  be  deemed  by  all  as 
peculiar  to  himself: 

"  I  don't  know  how  to  interest  a  class.  I  have  im- 
proved somewhat  in  the  ability  to  talk  against  time, 
though  it  horrifies  me  sometimes  to  take  out  my  watch 
and  find  that  I've  got  to  make  two  verses  last  twenty 
minutes.  But  when  it  comes  to  drawing  out  others, 
getting  them  to  interest  themselves  and  to  talk  them- 
selves on  the  subject  in  question,  I'm  stumped." 

Again  he  wrote,  when  called  to  act  as  both  super- 
intendent and  teacher : 

"  Sunday-school  was  in  the  morning  instead  of  the 
afternoon.  I  had  to  take  charge  again.  Teachers  as 
well  as  scholars  are  irregular.  To-day,  after  the  open- 


IO6  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

ing  exercises,  Captain  Atherton  and  I  divided  the  school 
between  us.  I  became  thoroughly  interested  in  the 
lesson  before  we  were  through,  as  I  often  do,  and  en- 
joyed it,  but  sha'n't  dread  it  a  particle  less  for  next 
time." 

Those  whom  he  taught  would  have  a  different  story 
to  tell  of  his  ability  to  interest  a  class.  Few  of  them 
imagined  that  he  so  dreaded  the  duty  he  performed 
so  well. 

Of  the  South  Carolina  coast-scenery  he  wrote,  after 
a  visit  to  a  neighboring  island,  from  St.  Helena : 

"  I  stood  a  few  hundred  yards  from  the  beach,  and 
looked  seaward  through  a  grove  of  palmetto-trees,  with 
their  tufted  tops  and  strangely  figured  trunks.  The 
sun  beat  down  hot  on  the  yellow  sands ;  there  was  a 
warm  haze  over  the  blue  water,  dimming  the  nearer 
shore,  and  hiding  the  distant  horizon ;  and  the  scene 
was  so  thoroughly  Oriental,  that  I  could  as  easily 
fancy  myself  on  the  shores  of  Palestine  as  realize  that 
I  was  on  those  of  Port  Royal." 

The  intimacy  of  the  adjutant  and  the  chaplain  grew 
closer  day  by  day.  After  leaving  New -Berne  they 
were  seldom  separated  from  each  other  for  many  min- 
utes at  a  time.  They  had  the  same  tent  and  blankets, 
and  shared  all  their  army  possessions.  They  came  to 
be  known  widely  as  "  the  twins,"  from  being  always  seen 
together.  Their  free  interchange  of  sentiment  modified 
the  views  of  each  on  many  points  concerning  which 
his  opinions  had  before  been  positive.  Camp's  calm, 


FRIENDLY    DISCUSSIONS.  IO/ 

reliable  judgment  many  times  held  in  check  the  chap- 
lain's nervous  impulsiveness ;  his  stores  of  information 
proved  the  other  often  in  error  as  to  facts  bearing  on 
a  question  at  issue;  his  uniform  fairness  liberalized 
some  sentiments  of  his  friend  as  to  men  and  measures  ; 
and  his  remarkable  purity  of  mind  and  consistency  of 
adherence  to  his  conscientious  views  of  right  could 
not  fail  to  be  elevating  and  ennobling  to  one  closely 
associated  with  him.  On  the  other  hand,  Camp  had 
been  so  accustomed  to  examine  every  question  in  its 
purely  logical  bearings,  as  sometimes  to  overlook  its 
practical  relations  to  every-day  life  in  the  world  as  it 
is.  The  chaplain's  experience  among  men  furnished 
his  friend  with  new  elements  of  thought  in  some  dis- 
cussions, and  those  elements  he  always  accepted  at 
their  fullest  weight. 

His  change  of  sentiment  as  to  the  propriety  of  card- 
playing  and  wine-drinking  should  not  be  passed  over 
without  mention  in  the  record  of  Camp's  army  life. 
As  neither  of  these  practices  was  viewed  by  him  as  in 
the  abstract  sinful,  he  could  not  join  in  sweepingly 
condemning  them.  Although  personally  abstemious, 
he  recognized  no  positive  duty  of  abstinence,  hence 
would  not  have  hesitated  to  drink  a  glass  of  wine  had 
he  wished  it,  and  as  readily  before  others  as  by  him- 
self; for  what  he  considered  right  in  his  practice  he 
was  willing  to  have  as  an  example  to  those  about  him. 
Of  card-playing,  in  the  light  in  which  he  saw  it,  he 
said  at  one  time  that  he  should  no  more  shrink  from 


IO8  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

the  thought  of  being  killed  while  thus  engaged  than 
while  reading  the  daily  paper. 

The  abstinence  question  he  discussed  with  his  friend 
while  they  were  making  a  passage  on  an  army-trans- 
port. The  two  stood  or  sat  together  on  the  deck 
during  nearly  all  of  one  night  in  the  final  argument. 
Camp's  clear  head  made  the  discussion  most  search- 
ing and  thorough ;  and  no  reason  that  could  be  ad- 
duced in  defense  of  alcohol  as  a  beverage,  or  the  pro- 
priety of  its  use  by  any  one,  was  overlooked.  It  was 
after  mature  deliberation  upon  the  discussion  of  that 
night,  that  Camp  expressed  his  conviction  that  total 
abstinence  was  a  duty,  in  view  of  the  evils  of  intem- 
perance, the  weakness  of  tempted  human  nature,  and 
the  responsibility  of  every  man  for  his  personal  example. 
Thenceforward,  until  the  day  of  his  death,  only  on  one 
occasion  did  a  drop  of  alcoholic  liquor  pass  his  lips ; 
and  that  was  during  his  week  of  escape  from  prison, 
after  such  a  soaking  in  the  cold  river,  on  a  wintry 
night,  as  required  an  immediate  stimulant  to  arouse 
sufficient  nervous  action  to  sustain  life.  He  more 
than  once  refused  its  use,  even  when  advised  as  a 
medicine  by  the  very  friend  whose  words  had  led  him 
to  renounce  it. 

Of  the  other  mooted  theme,  he  wrote  from  St. 
Helena: 

"Last  evening  we  discussed  card -playing.  You 
know  how  I  have  thought  and  talked  on  that  subject 
for  the  last  five  or  six  years.  Three-quarters  of  an 


THE    QUESTION    OF    CARD- PLAYING.  1 09 

hour  brought  me  to  his  side  of  the  question, — no  point 
of  abstract  right  or  of  absolute  duty,  but  of  practical 
expediency.  That  is  what  I  have  all  my  life  neglected 
sufficiently  to  consider.  I  have  failed  both  in  theory 
and  action  to  give  it  due  weight.  A  thing  of  such 
universal  application  too;  there  is  no  point  which  it 
doesn't  touch.  I  am  beginning  to  realize  this  as  I 
never  have  before,  and  my  views  are  being  modified 
to  an  extent,  that,  if  carried  out  in  practice,  will  affect 
my  life  both  for  the  present  and  the  future." 

Never  afterwards,  even  in  all  the  lonely  prison-hours 
at  Charleston,  Columbia,  and  Richmond,  where  at 
times  he  was  the  only  officer  thus  strict  in  his  views, 
did  he  indulge  in  a  game  of  cards.  Thus  true  was  he 
ever  to  his  convictions  of  duty,  whether  they  coincided 
with  popular  opinion  or  were  peculiarly  his  own. 

General  Stevenson's  brigade  left  St.  Helena  March 
27,  and  the  following  day  proceeded  on  transports  to 
North  Edisto  Inlet,  as  the  advance  of  Hunter  and 
Dupont's  expedition  against  Charleston ;  having  in 
view  the  occupation  of  Seabrook  Island  to  protect  its 
harbor  as  a  rendezvous  for  the  ironclads  and  army- 
transports.  That  island  was  then  in  the  enemy's  pos- 
session, patrolled  by  his  cavalry.  General  Stevenson's 
command  having  reached  the  inlet  soon  after  noon  of 
the  28th,  the  Tenth  landed  first,  while  the  navy  vigor- 
ously shelled  the  woods  of  the  island.  With  the 
knowledge  that  resistance,  if  made  at  all,  would  most 
likely  be  offered  while  the  troops  were  landing,  the 


I  10  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

debarkation  was  exciting.  Five  huge  launches,  con- 
taining about  one  hundred  men  each,  pushed  off  from 
the  steamer  Cahawba,  which  brought  the  Tenth  from 
Hilton  Head,  and  were  slowly  pulled  to  the  shore, 
the  men  meantime  singing  cheerily  the  "John  Brown" 
chorus.  Soon  as  the  first  prow  struck  the  beach,  there 
was  a  scramble  for  the  land,  officers  and  men  vying 
with  each  other  in  endeavors  to  be  first  on  the  island. 
Many  plunged  to  their  waists  into  water  and  mud  in 
their  haste  to  be  foremost.  Then,  as  Camp  wrote: 

"We  formed  line  with  all  speed,  ready  to  repel 
attack,  and  when  all  had  landed,  and  piled  their  knap- 
sacks so  as  to  march  with  ease  and  rapidity,  started 
along  a  road  which  skirted  the  beach  and  led  toward 
the  upper  end  of  the  island, — Captains  Goodyear  and 
Atherton  deploying  skirmishers  in  advance  of  the 
regiment  General  Stevenson,  Colonel  Otis,  Lieu- 
tenant-Colonel Leggett,  Trumbull,  and  myself,  walked 
at  the  head  of  the  column,  within  a  few  yards  of  Cap- 
tain Goodyear's  men.  It  was  somewhat  exciting  to 
advance  thus  through  an  enemy's  country,  doubtful 
whether  it  was  occupied  by  them  at  the  time,  and 
uncertain  at  what  moment  we  might  meet  sudden 
opposition.  Trumbull  and  I  enjoyed  it  exceedingly 
together." 

Two  miles  up  the  island  the  regiment  halted  for  the 
night,  on  the  Seabrook  Plantation,  darkness  having 
already  shut  in.  The  Twenty-fourth  Massachusetts 
and  the  Fifty-sixth  New  York  State  Volunteers  were 


COMFORT    IN    DISCOMFORT.  I  I  I 

in  close  support  of  the  Tenth.  Soon  after  the  halt, 
the  rebel  cavalry  made  a  dash  upon  the  picket-reserves ; 
and,  in  the  skirmish  which  followed,  a  sergeant  of  the 
Tenth  was  carried  off  a  prisoner,  mortally  wounded. 
"  He  is  the  first  man,"  wrote  Camp,  "  ever  taken  forci- 
bly prisoner  from  the  regiment.  It  would  have  been 
better  to  lose  a  dozen  in  action." 

The  following  morning  the  Tenth  was  relieved  from 
picket,  and  returned  in  a  drenching  rain-storm  to  the 
lower  end  of  the  island  to  find  itself  quarters  in  a  com- 
fortless swamp. 

"  It  isn't  particularly  cheerful,  after  a  stormy  march," 
wrote  Camp,  "  to  halt  in  the  midst  of  dripping  trees 
and  bushes,  look  about  one,  and  consider  that  his 
home  for  the  next  few  days  is  to  be  right  there;  that 
he'll  have  just  as  much  comfort  as  he  can  get  out  of 
those  surroundings,  and  no  more.  Walk  out  to  Tal- 
cott  Mountain  (though  that  is  altogether  too  pleasant 
a  place)  next  time  there's  a  good  heavy  storm  fairly  in 
progress,  and  see  how  it  seems." 

The  Tenth  was  soon,  in  spite  of  this  unpromising 
location,  in  a  comfortable  camp,  from  which  it  thence- 
forward alternated  with  the  other  regiments  of  the 
command  in  three-day  tours  of  outpost  duty,  anticipat- 
ing hopefully  an  order  to  advance  to  a  more  active 
part  in  the  opening  campaign.  As  the  enemy  held 
the  upper  part  of  Seabrook  Island,  and  the  opposing 
pickets  were  in  sight  of  each  other  (the  enemy  often 
firing  upon  the  "intruding  Yankees,"  or  coming  down 


112  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

in  the  night  to  feel  their  strength,  and  in  the  hope  of 
capturing  a  few  prisoners),  outpost  service  was  there 
sufficiently  exciting  to  render  it  attractive. 

General  Stevenson  wishing  to  know  more  of  the 
topography  of  the  island,  of  its  approaches  from  the 
main  land,  and  of  the  location  of  the  enemy's  reserves, 
small  scouting-parties  went  out  beyond  his  lines  from 
time  to  time  to  obtain  the  desired  information.  Such 
undertakings  were  peculiarly  in  keeping  with  the  tastes 
and  impulses  of  Adjutant  Camp.  Rarely,  if  ever,  did 
he  fail  to  make  one  of  the  party  so  advancing ;  and  in 
more  instances  than  one  he  and  his  friend  were  alone 
on  such  a  scout.  Describing  some  of  these  adven- 
tures in  his  home  letters,  he  said  of  his  enjoyment  in 
them: 

"  The  necessity  of  constant  watchfulness,  of  having 
an  eye  for  every  sight  and  an  ear  for  every  sound ;  the 
consciousness  of  what  you  are  staking  upon  every 
movement  you  make,  and  the  uncertainty,  once  ad- 
vanced to  a  dangerous  position,  whether  even  the 
utmost  prudence  and  courage  may  not  fail  to  extricate 
you,  bring  into  play  every  faculty  a  man  possesses, 
and  put  a  tension  upon  every  nerve.  The  enjoyment 
is  intense;  and  I  think  any  man  who  is  thoroughly 
ennuye,  and  has  worn  out  the  round  of  civilized  amuse- 
ments, would  find  there  was  one  thrill  of  untried  ex- 
citement and  pleasure  left  for  him  if  he  would  go  with 
us  on  a  little  excursion  outside  the  lines.  Nothing 
but  an  actual  brush  with  the  enemy,  which  we  are 


A  NAVAL  ADVANCE.  I  I  3 

provoked  to  have  missed  after  having  once  or  twice 
offered  them  so  fair  an  opportunity,  has  been  wanting 
to  make  all  complete.  Trumbull  and  I  have  been 
together  each  time,  and  enjoyed  each  other's  presence 
exceedingly." 

When  finally  the  navy  was  ready  for  a  move,  the 
troops  on  Seabrook  Island  found  no  part  assigned 
them  in  a  further  advance.  This  was  to  Camp  a  sore 
disappointment.  It  was  with  longing  eyes  that  he 
watched  from  a  high  sand-bluff,  on  the  morning  of 
Easter  Sunday,  April  4,  the  great  fleet  of  iron-clads 
and  wooden  gunboats  sail  out  of  Edisto  Inlet,  and  up 
toward  Stono,  to  commence  the  attack.  Two  days 
later,  writing  from  his  little  "A"  tent,  at  the  picket 
reserve,  he  said: 

"As  I  write  this,  the  thunder  of  heavy  guns  to  the 
northward  is  almost  incessant.  The  attack  on  Charles- 
ton has  commenced.  I  counted  ten  reports  in  a  min- 
ute, a  little  while  ago,  and  the  fire  seems  to  be  growing 
hotter  and  hotter.  We  chafe  and  fret  at  our  distance 
from  the  fight ;  but  there's  nothing  for  us  but  a  mas- 
terly inactivity.  It  is  terribly  provoking  to  sit  here 
and  listen,  guarding  a  few  miserable  old  schooners 
from  an  attack  which  would  never  be  made  in  any 
event, — and  to  think  that  this  is  our  share  in  the  great 
Charleston  expedition ! " 

A  few  hours'  cannonading  ended  the  great  enter- 
prise, which  had  been  so  many  weeks  preparing. 
Camp  listened  in  vain  for  a  resumption  of  the  attack 


I  14  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

after  the  first  intermission  in  the  firing;  and,  as  he 
listened,  he  wrote  thus  of  his  outpost  home  with  its 
attractions  and  annoyances : 

"  I  have  hardly  seen  a  prettier  spot  than  this  island 
since  leaving  home,  Beaufort,  perhaps,  excepted.  Our 
field  and  staff  tents  are  by  themselves  in  a  quiet,  shady 
spot,  a  little  retired  from  the  main  road  up  the  island. 
The  high  sand-bluff  upon  the  beach,  used  as  a  look- 
out, is  directly  opposite  us, — a  quarter  of  a  mile  dis- 
tant through  the  woods;  and  we  are  lulled  to  sleep  at 
night  by  the  roar  of  the  surf  at  its  base.  To-night, 
perhaps,  it  will  be  a  sterner  thunder  than  that  of  ocean 
storms;  a  fiercer  crash  than  that  of  waves  along  the 
shore. 

"  But  the  gnats,  and  the  ants,  and  the  spiders,  and 
the  lizards,  and  the  scorpions,  and  the  moccasins,  and 
the  alligators,  and  the  rebels  (most  harmless  to  us  of 
any),  are  the  slight  drawbacks  upon  our  enjoyment." 

Of  another  drawback  upon  enjoyment  on  the 
Southern  coast,  he  humorously  added,  in  another 
letter : 

"  When  you  hear  of  mosquitoes,  you  think  of  a 
small  brown  insect,  don't  you?  with  legs  and  wings 
almost  invisible,  and  a  hum  audible  some  inches  from 
the  ear.  I  wish  you  could  see  the  animal  that  goes 
by  the  same  name  here.  When  /  speak  of  a  mos- 
quito, I  mean  something  that  stands  a  little  less  than 
fourteen  hands  high  (can't  give  the  weight,  because 
we  have  no  platform-scales);  whose  wings  are  like 


LIFE   ON    SEABROOK    ISLAND.  I  1 5 

Apollyon's  in  the  'Pilgrim's  Progress;'  whose  mus- 
cular legs  are  horribly  striped  with  black  and  white; 
whose  cting  is  like  the  dragon's  which  St.  George 
slew,  and  whose  voice  is  as  the  sound  of  many  waters. 
I  think  of  writing  an  article  for  the  New-Englander, 
settling  the  question  what  beast  Job  described  under 
the  name  of  Behemoth,  by  demonstrating  that  it  was 
a  Carolina  mosquito  or  a  woodtick, — either  of  them 
would  furnish  a  more  plausible  theory  than  some  I 
have  read." 

The  stay  of  the  Tenth  at  Seabrook  Island  was  pro- 
longed; and,  in  spite  of  the  chafing  desire  to  be  in 
more  active  service,  Camp  enjoyed  his  life  there.  The 
island  was  a  good  specimen  of  the  cotton-growing 
ones  of  the  South  Carolina  coast.  There  were  rich 
plantation  -  plains,  malaria -breeding  marshes,  "wild 
swamps,  dense  thickets  of  the  tangled  Southern  under- 
growth, lonely  palmetto-jungles,  and  groves  of  low 
branching  live-oaks,  deeply  fringed  with  long  gray 
moss."  Alligators  moved  lazily  through  the  sluggish 
waters  of  the  gloomy  lagoon,  and  poisonous  reptiles 
glided  through  the  rank  grass  before  the  tread  of  the 
passing  soldier.  Game  was  plenty, — deer  and  rac- 
coons and  opossums  in  the  forests,  and  wild  fowl  in 
the  creeks  and  inlets,  while  the  waters  adjacent  fur- 
nished a  rich  variety  of  fish,  from  the  mammoth  stur- 
geon to  the  small  and  palatable  mullet. 

Here  is  one  of  many  incidents  of  army  life  on  the 
island : 


Il6  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

"  Coming  back  just  after  dark  from  the  picket-reserve 
to  camp,  we  heard  distant  singing,  which  proved,  as 
we  came  near,  to  be  a  group  of  the  Ninety-seventh 
Pennsylvania  singing  hymns.  We  stopped  to  listen ; 
and  finally  T.  [Chaplain  Trumbull]  determined  to  say  a 
few  words  to  them,  and  did  it  as  he  knows  how  to  do 
such  a  thing,  interesting  every  man  of  them,  from  be- 
ginning to  end,  and  concluding  with  prayer.  I  liked 
the  men's  appearance, — the  way  in  which  every  cap 
came  off  when  T.  entered  the  group,  and  the  respect- 
ful attention  they  paid.  Their  manners  were  real 
Western, — free  and  easy,  without  the  slightest  inten- 
tional disrespect.  The  moment  the  meeting  was  over, 
they  crowded  around,  asked  T.  if  I  was  a  Christian 
man ;  and  every  one  of  them  wanted  to  shake  hands 
with  us,  and  have  a  good  sociable  talk.  Cordial,  open- 
hearted  fellows,  —  it  was  very  pleasant,  if  not  quite 
military.  The  last  thing  our  men  would  think  of 
would  be  offering  to  shake  hands  with  an  officer.  The 
Ninety-seventh  have  no  chaplain ;  but  there  is  a  strong 
religious  element  in  the  regiment,  and  quite  a  num- 
ber, they  say,  have  been  converted  since  joining  the 
army.  .  .  . 

"  Returning  to  picket  at  dusk  that  evening,  the  air 
was  one  blaze  of  fireflies.  I  never  saw  any  pyrotechny 
to  equal  it.  There  are  many  beautiful  things  at  the 
South,  but  nothing  under  heaven  would  ever  tempt 
me  to  spend  my  life  here.  I  should  die  for  pure  air 
and  clear  streams,  and  rocks  and  hills.  I  wouldn't 


A    LACK    OF    OXYGEN.  117 

exchange  our  home  lot  for  the  whole  State  of  South 
Carolina." 

About  the  first  of  May,  while  the  work  of  intrench- 
ing was  going  on  at  Seabrook  Island,  Chaplain  Trum- 
bull  left  for  a  brief  visit  to  New-Berne  and  the  North, 
on  business  for  the  regiment.  The  parting  of  the  two 
friends,  intimate  as  they  had  become,  and  in  view  of 
the  possibilities  of  war,  was  trying  to  both. 

Writing  to  his  friend,  during  that  separation,  of  his 
loneliness,  Camp  expressively  declared  it  to  be  "  as  if 
the  air  were  deprived  of  one-half  of  its  oxygen ; "  and 
then  added : 

"I  used  to  think,  a  year  ago,  that  a  single  wall-tent 
furnished  very  narrow  accommodations  for  an  officer, 
— mine  was  not  large  enough.  But  ours  seems  very 
lonely  and  empty  this  evening :  there  is  a  great  vacancy 
here,  and  it  remains  unfilled,  no  matter  how  many 
come  in.  I  could  not  fully  realize,  before  we  were 
separated,  how  thoroughly  our  lives  had  become 
blended,  how  sadly  I  should  miss  you  every  hour  of 
the  day,  how  anxiously  I  should  await  the  time  of 
your  return.  .  .  .  There  is  a  constant  sense  of  want 
while  you  are  absent, — not  at  all  times  making  itself 
distinctly  intelligible,  but  ever  recurring  and  still  un- 
satisfied. Wherever  I  turn,  there  is  a  great  vacuum 
before  me.  I  want  it  filled.  What  do  you  suppose 
would  fill  it?" 

In  the  chaplain's  absence,  the  adjutant  assumed  the 


Il8  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

conduct  of  the  regimental  prayer-meetings  and  Sun- 
day-school. He  reorganized  the  latter,  secured  addi- 
tional teachers,  assembled  them  with  their  associates 
for  an  examination  of  the  lesson  at  his  own  tent  on 
Saturday  evenings,  and  canvassed  the  regiment  for 
scholars.  In  all  respects,  the  school  was  better  man- 
aged than  while  the  chaplain  was  with  it;  and  the 
prayer-meetings  of  the  regiment  were  never  warmer 
or  seemingly  more  truly  profitable  than  then.  As  in 
everything  else  to  which  he  set  his  hand  and  heart,  he 
filled  the  place  better  than  it  could  be  filled  by  another. 

General  Ferry  assumed  command,  in  May,  of  the 
troops  in  North  Edisto  Inlet,  including  those  on  Sea- 
brook  and  Botany  Bay  islands.  Two  members  of  his 
staff  were  college  mates  of  Camp, — Captain  Brayton 
Ives  and  Lieutenant  H.  S.  Johnson, — the  latter  a  fellow- 
oarsman  in  the  Worcester  regatta;  and  he  enjoyed 
having  near  him  those  with  whom  he  had  been  before 
so  pleasantly  associated.  Occasional  excursions  were 
made  by  officers  and  men  of  the  Tenth  to  neighboring 
islands  patrolled  by  the  enemy,  to  make  observations, 
and  to  obtain  furniture  and  building-materials  for  their 
camp  from  deserted  plantation-houses.  Of  an  excur- 
sion to  Edisto  Island,  with  two  companies  as  escort 
of  the  party  of  officers,  Camp  wrote,  in  description  of 
the  approach  to  the  Seabrook  place: 

"  Beyond  the  bridge  we  moved  with  great  caution ; 
the  skirmishers  widely  deployed,  and  keenly  observant 
of  the  house  and  shrubbery,  from  which,  as  we  were 


ON    ED1STO    ISLAND.  119 

now  within  rifle-range,  we  half  expected  to  be  fired 
upon.  Standing  still  for  a  moment,  Dr.  Newton  saw 
a  crow  perched  upon  the  cupola  of  the  house.  '  All 
right! '  he  exclaimed:  'there  wouldn't  be  a  crow  there 
if  there  were  firearms  near  by/  That  crow  was  worth 
to  us,  in  the  way  of  evidence,  as  much  as  a  whole  bat- 
talion of  skirmishers.  It  was  a  very  short  time  before 
we  were  in  possession  of  the  establishment.  .  .  . 

"  It  is  strange  what  a  tendency  there  is,  after  once 
taking  possession  of  a  place  and  becoming  convinced 
that  no  enemy  is  actually  on  the  premises,  to  settle 
down  into  a  feeling  of  security.  No  matter  how  ner- 
vously it  may  have  been  approached, — perhaps  all  the 
more  for  the  very  reasons  that  the  first  apprehensions 
proved  groundless ;  no  matter  how  clear  a  knowledge 
of  the  danger  still  existing  men  may  have, — one  will 
yet  act  as  if  there  were  none;  and  it  is  often  impossi- 
ble, without  a  distinct  effort  of  the  reason,  to  realize 
it.  Everything  looks  so  peaceful  and  quiet,  —  and 
then  there  is  the  guard  (seldom,  in  fact,  adequate  to 
cover  half  the  approaches),  who  would  probably  give 
the  alarm  in  time  enough,  unless  they  were  surprised. 
So,  arms  are  stacked,  and  we  wander  over  the  estate 
as  carelessly  as  if  it  were  on  the  shores  of  Long  Island 
Sound,  instead  of  Edisto  Inlet.  Still  there  is  an  almost 
unconscious  watchfulness  of  the  senses,  the  ear  is  wide 
awake  for  the  sound  of  a  rifle-shot,  no  matter  what  the 
head  may  be  thinking  of;  the  eye,  when  not  other- 
wise employed,  is  very  apt  to  sweep  the  circuit  of 


I2O  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

surrounding  woods,  or  glance  down  the  road ;  and  the 
crash  of  a  breaking  window,  the  fall  of  a  heavy  timber, 
or  the  sight  of  an  animal  moving  among  the  distant 
bushes,  arrests  the  blackberry  halfway  between  the 
vine  and  one's  mouth,  or  saves  the  flower  for  which 
his  hand  was  stretched  out,  and  puts  him  in  readiness, 
on  the  slightest  confirmation  of  his  suspicion,  to  make 
quick  time  to  the  rendezvous.  .  .  . 

"  The  grounds  about  the  place  were  very  pleasant, 
only  needing  care.  There  were  paths  winding  through 
dense  shrubbery  and  passing  by  ornamental  bridges 
over  a  little  stream  ;  there  were  arbors  and  walks 
shaded  by  foliage  too  close  and  thick  to  give  passage 
to  a  single  ray  of  sunlight;  there  were  enormous  rose- 
trees  lifting  far  above  my  head  such  masses  of  gold 
and  crimson  as  I  had  never  seen, — cloth-of-gold  roses, 
do  you  know  them  ? — each  as  large  as  half  a  dozen  of 
any  ordinary  variety,  crowded  with  petals  of  golden 
velvet,  so  rich  and  thick,  and  of  a  color  so  soft,  that 
you  can  compare  them  with  nothing  but  bits  of  sunset 
cloud :  a  single  one  is  a  magnificent  bouquet.  There 
was  a  grove  of  orange-trees,  some  of  them  in  blossom ; 
the  pure  white  buds  bursting  out  of  glossy  deep-green 
leaves,  and  filling  all  the  air  around  with  perfume  almost 
too  rich  and  overpowering.  There  were  strange 
century -plants  like  mighty  cactuses,  and  unfamiliar 
tropical-looking  growths  to  which  I  could  give  no 
name.  The  luxuriance  and  fulness  of  vegetation  is 
wonderful :  every  plant  seems  to  feel  itself  at  home, 


AN    EXCITING    RECONNOISSANCE.  121 

and  abandons  itself  to  utter  dissipation  and  wanton- 
ness of  unrestrained  development  A  Southern  April 
has  more  of  glowing  bloom,  fierce  intensity  of  color 
and  brilliancy,  in  contrast  with  more  of  somber  shade, 
density  of  massive  growth,  and  depth  of  green  gloom 
beneath,  than  Northern  midsummer.  I  have  spoken 
of  this  before;  but  it  was  peculiarly  noticeable  in  this 
garden  where  cultivation  had  done  its  utmost,  and 
then  left  Nature  to  work  its  own  will.  .  .  . 

"We  marched  back  along  the  sea-beach,  almost 
every  man  with  some  article  of  comfort  or  convenience 
for  his  tent,  scarcely  one  without  a  huge  bunch  of 
these  gorgeous  flowers  in  the  muzzle  of  his  rifle  or  in 
his  hand ;  so  that,  marching  at  will,  we  looked  more 
like  a  procession  of  Italian  peasants  returning  from  a 
festival,  than  a  battalion  of  Connecticut  Yankees  com- 
ing back  from  a  hazardous  reconnoissance." 

About  the  first  of  June,  the  chaplain  returned  to  the 
regiment,  and  the  friends  were  again  as  one.  Not 
many  days  after  their  reunion,  they  accompanied 
General  Stevenson,  with  several  companies  of  the 
Tenth,  beyond  the  picket-lines  on  a  reconnoissance  to 
the  extreme  upper  end  of  the  island  to  examine  its 
approaches  from  John's  Island.  The  rebel  pickets 
fell  back  on  the  approach  of  the  general's  party,  and 
retired  over  a  broken  causeway  to  a  collection  of 
buildings,  including  an  old  sugar-house  on  the  John's 
Island  side  of  the  little  creek  which  bounded  Seabrook 
Island  in  that  direction.  There  were  indications  that 


122  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

they  had  a  strong  reserve  in  the  rear  of  those  build- 
ings; but,  it  not  being  the  general's  purpose  to  go 
beyond  the  island,  he  ordered  a  return  by  another 
path  than  that  which  had  just  been  passed  over.  Up 
to  this  time,  he  had  met  with  no  resistance. 

"  Retiring,  the  skirmishers,  deployed  in  open  line, 
marched  in  the  rear.  Within  a  dozen  paces  were  the 
general,  with  two  or  three  of  his  friends, —  Colonel 
Otis,  Lieutenant -Colonel  Leggett,  Dr.  Newton,  T., 
and  myself.  Captain  White,  who  commanded  the 
skirmishers,  was  close  by.  We  had  gone  some  little 
distance,  supposing  that  the  affair  was  over,  and  half 
grumbling  that  it  had  amounted  to  no  more,  when  we 
were  startled  by  a  report  behind  us,  followed  instantly 
by  the  sharp  hiss  of  a  bullet  close  past  our  heads. 
The  skirmishers — to  say  nothing  of  any  others — were 
a  trifle  surprised.  Every  man  of  them  ducked  his 
head;  and  we  found  ourselves  suddenly  just  about  in 
line  with  them.  Then  another  report  and  another 
bullet ;  this  time  a  few  feet  over  us,  and  a  little  one 
side.  Shot  followed  shot  in  quick  succession  ;  now 
two  or  three  almost  together,  then  an  interval  of 
quiet. 

"We  walked  slowly  along,  not  altering  our  pace, — 
sometimes  stooping  at  the  sound  of  the  explosion,  and 
sometimes  not.  I  was  surprised  to  find  that  there  was 
abundant  time  for  this  before  the  arrival  of  the  bullet, 
— a  distinct  interval, — showing  that  its  velocity  and 
that  of  sound  differ  more  than  I  had  supposed.  It 


AGAIN    UNDER    FIRE.  123 

must  have  been  long  range;  but  the  marksmanship 
was  excellent.  Bullets  struck  among  us,  passed  over 
us,  by  us,  between  us,  everywhere  but  through  us. 
We  were  undoubtedly  made  special  targets.  The 
group  walking  together  was  an  excellent  mark,  and 
the  distance  was  short  enough ;  so  that,  with  a  glass 
at  least,  badges  of  rank  must  have  been  easily  dis- 
tinguishable. Dr.  Newton  had  on  a  white  Panama 
hat, — just  the  thing  at  which  to  aim.  Colonel  Leg- 
gett  was  just  in  front  of  T.  and  myself,  a  little  one  side. 
He  looked  around  once,  saw  the  smoke  curl  from  the 
muzzle  of  a  piece,  and  instinctively  stepped  to  the  left. 
In  a  second  more  the  bullet  whistled  between  us  and 
him,  passing  directly  where  he  had  stood,  and  striking 
the  ground  within  a  few  inches  of  his  foot. 

"  The  difference  in  sound  between  different  bullets 
was  marked.  Some  had  the  fierce  whiz  of  the  spin- 
ning rifle-ball,  some  the  sharp  hiss  of  the  smooth-bore 
missile,  and  some  a  fainter  and  less  vicious  'whssh/  as 
if  they  were  almost  spent,  and  had  lost  half  their  venom. 
Some  were  more  distant;  some  seemed  close  to  our 
ears:  but  there  was  hardly  one  ill  aimed,  and  it  was 
really  strange — providential,  I  should  say — that  none 
of  us  were  hit.  .  .  .  The  most  tantalizing  thing  all 
this  time  was  that  the  enemy  kept  closely  under  cover. 
We  didn't  catch  sight  of  a  man  after  fire  was  opened. 
Our  men  were  told  not  to  return  it  unless  they  could 
see  their  mark;  and  the  result  was  that  not  a  shot  was 
fired  from  our  side.  They  did  not  keep  it  up  long, — 


124  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

probably  kept  near  the  bridge, — and  we  were  soon 
out  of  range." 

The  enemy  seemed  provoked  at  the  escape  of  the 
venturesome  party,  and,  soon  after  the  latter  had 
reached  its  former  lines,  came  down  with  cavalry, 
artillery,  and  infantry,  and  opened  with  a  section  of  a 
light  battery  from  the  front  yard  of  the  Seabrook  House, 
on  the  woods  which  shielded  the  Union  pickets. 
General  Stevenson  ordered  up  two  guns  to  reply;  and 
a  brisk  artillery  duel  followed,  with  a  few  casualties 
on  both  sides.  "We  enjoyed  intensely  the  exciting 
sport,"  wrote  Camp  to  his  home,  in  description  of  this 
afternoon's  experiences :  then,  in  defense  of  the  senti- 
ment thus  expressed,  he  said  in  a  subsequent  letter: 

"No  motive  that  is  not  positively  wrong  can,  I 
think,  be  spared.  There  is  lack,  rather  than  excess, 
with  most.  Whatever  may  be  the  underlying  prin- 
ciple of  action  which  is  really  at  the  basis  of  all  else,  I 
am  inclined  to  believe  that  that  which  is  usually  upper- 
most in  the  mind,  as  immediately  affecting  the  conduct 
in  time  of  danger  and  trial,  is  the  excitement  of  the 
struggle,  positively;  negatively,  the  shame  of  miscon- 
duct or  failure.  As  long  as  men  are  mere  men,  I 
don't  see  how  it  can  be  otherwise.  If  the  higher  in- 
ducements to  duty  were  the  only  ones,  I  should  fear 
for  results.  What  will  be  the  effect  upon  character, 
we  can  judge  better,  perhaps,  when  the  war  is  over.  It 
does  not  seem  to  me  that  it  will  be  otherwise  than 
beneficial ;  a  belief  which  is,  of  course,  the  necessary 


WINNING    FRIENDS    AND    PRAISE.  125 

sequence  of  a  belief  in  the  motives  themselves  as  being 
— in  ultimate  subordination  to  nobler  ones — justifiable 
and  right." 

The  fleet-captain  of  the  ironclads  in  the  waters  of 
Edisto  was  Commander  George  W.  Rodgers  of  the 
Cattskill,  a  Christian  officer  of  rare  worth  and  attain- 
ments, whom  the  two  friends  found  congenial  in  tastes 
and  sympathy.  They  visited  him  in  his  vessel,  and 
he  was  frequently  in  their  tent.  It  was  Captain 
Rodgers's  custom  to  conduct  a  religious  service  among 
his  men  every  Sunday,  and  he  was  glad  to  have  the 
chaplain  preach  for  him  occasionally;  while  he  always 
came  to  the  shore  for  the  camp  service  on  Sundays, 
when  he  could  do  so.  He  greatly  admired  Adjutant 
Camp,  saying  to  his  friend  that  he  deemed  him  the 
most  attractive  volunteer  officer  he  had  ever  met. 

The  adjutant  was  detailed  as  judge-advocate  of  a 
general  court-martial  on  Seabrook  Island ;  and  al- 
though, with  his  accustomed  distrust  of  himself  and 
his  relentless  self-censure,  he  wrote,  "I  was  careless 
and  clumsy,  made  omissions  and  blunders,  and  did 
myself  very  little  credit,"  he  won  warm  praise  from 
the  officers  composing  the  court;  and  one  of  the  most 
prominent  of  them  remarked  afterward,  that  every 
member  of  it  became  attached  to  him,  although  but 
one  or  two  had  known  him  before. 

The  power  of  his  personal  presence  was  remarka- 
ble. Few  ever  saw  him  without  being  impressed  with 


126  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

a  sense  of  his  superiority.  The  impulse  to  lift  a  hat 
to  him,  as  a  tribute  to  his  dignified  manliness,  was 
often  manifested  even  by  those  above  him  in  official 
rank.  Said  one  who  was  always  his  superior  officer, 
"  I  was  never  very  intimate  with  Camp,  for  I  always 
had  too  much  respect  for  him."  The  better  he  was 
known,  the  more  he  was  esteemed  and  beloved. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

JAMES  ISLAND  AND  FORT  WAGNER. 

:"|N  the  evening  of  Monday,  July  6,  1863,  a 
pleasant  party  sat  at  dinner  in  the  field  and 


staff  mess-tent  of  the  Tenth  Regiment,  on 
Seabrook  Island.  An  old-fashioned  New 
England  chowder  had  been  prepared,  and 
General  Stevenson  and  Commander  Rodgers  were 
invited  to  share  it.  Besides  these  guests  there  were 
present  Colonel  Otis,  Lieutenant  -  Colonel  Leggett, 
Major  Greeley,  Surgeon  Newton,  and  Assistant-Sur- 
geon Hart,  together  with  the  adjutant  and  the  chaplain. 
While  the  dinner  was  in  progress,  and  all  were  enjoy- 
ing themselves,  with  hardly  a  thought  of  severe  service 
as  a  possibility  for  the  season,  word  came  that  a 
steamer  was  crossing  the  bar  at  the  mouth  of  the  inlet ; 
and  at  once  the  party  was  broken  up,  never  to  be  re- 
united on  earth. 

Within  a  fortnight  from  that  evening,  Adjutant 
Camp  and  his  friend  were  prisoners  in  a  Charleston 
jail.  The  brave  Lieutenant-Colonel  Leggett  lost  a  leg 

127 


128  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

in  the  trenches  of  Morris  Island,  and  good  Commander 
Rodgers  yielded  his  life  in  the  bombardment  of  Fort 
Wagner.  Later,  gallant  General  Stevenson  was  killed 
at  Spottsylvania  Court  House,  and  Major  Camp  fell 
before  Richmond;  while  Colonel  Otis  and  Surgeon 
Newton  left  the  service,  after  prolonged  and  arduous 
campaigning.  At  the  time  of  the  writing  of  this 
memorial,  only  Major  (now  Colonel)  Greeley,  Surgeon 
Hart,  and  Chaplain  Trumbull,  remain  in  service,  of  the 
nine  who  then  arose  from  the  table. 

"Orders  had  come,"  wrote  Camp,  in  his  home 
letters,  "  to  go  aboard  the  Ben  de  Ford  (a  large  ocean 
steamer)  as  soon  as  she  arrived,  which  would  be  dur- 
ing the  night.  '  Light  marching  order,  forty  rounds 
of  ammunition  in  the  cartridge-boxes,  ten  days'  ra- 
tions, shelter-tents  for  the  men.'  I  carried  the  order 
round  to  company  commanders.  It  is  curious  to 
see  how  men  will  take  a  bit  of  news  that  has  some- 
what of  the  startling  in  it.  I  like  to  take  one,  and 
watch ;  see  with  what  an  utterly  matter-of-course  air 
they  listen — ask  a  question  that  may  be  of  life  or  death 
as  unconcernedly  as  they  would  ask  whether  you  liked 
your  beefsteak  rare  or  well  done ;  and  see  behind  it 
all  the  intense  interest  and  curiosity  with  which  the 
smallest  item  of  information  in  reference  to  the  affair 
is  caught  at  and  treasured  up.  I  was  amused  last 
night  at  a  lieutenant,  who  heard  what  I  had  to  say  to 
him  as  quietly  as  if  it  hardly  paid  him  for  taking  his 
eyes  off  his  newspaper.  I  left  the  tent,  but  had  occa- 


PRAYING    BEFORE   FIGHTING. 

sion  to  repass  it  immediately.  There  he  was,  perform- 
ing the  wildest  kind  of  a  Pawnee  war-dance;  just 
about  half  crazy  with  delight  and  excitement  at  the 
prospect  of  work  ahead.  News  went  before  me  as  I 
passed  down  the  line;  and,  in  ten  minutes,  prepara- 
tions were  under  full  headway." 

General  Stevenson's  troops,  with  the  exception  of 
enough  for  guard  duty,  left  Seabrook  Island  on  the 
early  morning  of  July  7.  Only  the  effective  men  of 
the  command  went  along,  and  the  officers  took  merely 
such  personal  baggage  as  could  be  carried  in  a  haver- 
sack or  light  valise.  The  understanding  was  that  they 
were  to  return  in  a  few  days  ;  but,  as  in  the  leaving  of 
New-Berne,  the  event  proved  that  they  were  not  to  go 
back.  Sailing  to  Port  Royal  Harbor,  they  waited  the 
completion  of  arrangements  for  General  Gillmore's 
attack  on  Morris  Island.  The  Fifty-sixth  New  York 
regiment,  under  Colonel  Van  Wyck,  was  with  the 
Tenth  on  the  Ben  de  Ford.  On  the  evening  of  July  9, 
there  was  a  delightfully  impressive  prayer-meeting  on 
the  after-deck  of  the  steamer,  attended  largely  by  the 
officers  and  men  of  both  regiments,  which  will  not 
soon  be  forgotten  by  any  who  participated  in  it. 
Soldiers  love  to  pray  before  they  fight.  Those  who 
trust  in  Jesus  draw  closer  to  him  then,  and  the  rough- 
est are  reverent  at  such  a  time.  The  voices  of  prayer 
were  subdued,  yet  earnest ;  and  the  songs  of  praise 
were  mellow  with  deep  feeling. 

The  morning  of  July  10  found  the  troops  of  General 
9 


I3O  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

Terry — under  whom  General  Stevenson  was  com- 
manding his  brigade — landing  at  the  lower  end  of 
James  Island,  in  conjunction  with  General  Strong's 
advance  from  Folly  to  Morris  Island.  The  former's 
move  was  unopposed,  and  he  chose  his  first  position 
a  short  distance  up  the  island.  From  the  roof  of  the 
Rivers'  house,  a  full  view  was  obtained  of  Charleston 
and  its  harbor;  and  the  friends  watched  with  deepest 
interest  the  firing  from  Sumter  and  Moultrie  and  the 
Morris-Island  batteries,  and  from  the  iron-clad  fleet  in 
the  offing,  and  speculated  on  the  progress  and  pros- 
pects of  the  battle  as  reports  came  over  from  the  forces 
of  General  Gillmore  in  that  direction. 

On  Saturday  evening,  just  before  sundown,  a  demon- 
stration was  made  toward  the  works  at  Secessionville. 
Here  is  Camp's  story  of  this  movement : 

"  The  Twenty-fourth  Massachusetts,  Ninety-seventh 
Pennsylvania,  and  ourselves,  advanced ;  formed  line 
of  battle  in  a  large  open  field,  while  the  gunboats 
shelled  the  ground  in  front ;  and  at  dusk  we  threw  out 
pickets  a  few  hundred  yards,  and  bivouacked  for  the 
night.  All  our  men,  except  one  company,  were  posted 
on  picket,  and  covered  a  very  long  front.  Henry 
[the  chaplain]  went  in  one  direction,  and  I  in  another, 
along  the  line,  to  carry  orders.  (Henry  I  always  call 
him  here ;  and  I'm  going  to  quit  insulting  him  as 
rT.'  in  my  letters  to  you ;  and  here  is  a  commence- 
ment.) Darkness  coming  on  rapidly,  I  lost  my  way 
in  endeavoring  to  gain  the  reserve.  The  field  had 


PICKETING    ON   JAMES    ISLAND.  13! 

been  plowed  in  deep  furrows ;  was  overgrown  with 
rank  weeds,  breast-high ;  was  broken  up  by  thorny, 
impenetrable  hedges,  and  miry,  impassable  ditches; 
and  was  in  all  respects  about  as  undesirable  a  place 
for  an  evening  ramble  as  could  be  got  up  to  order. 
Every  other  step  among  the  irregular  furrows  pitched 
one  unexpectedly  forward,  jarring  every  bone  in  his 
body,  or  brought  him  up  standing  against  an  ascend- 
ing slope.  Every  few  rods  brought  him  to  a  chasm, 
invisible  in  the  darkness,  until  his  foot  was  on  its  edge. 
Every  few  hundred  yards  plunged  him  into  briers  and 
bushes,  where  he  would  do  well  if  he  could  retrace  his 
steps  to  the  entrance  with  any  considerable  remnant 
of  clothes  or  skin.  Then  there  was  the  more  than  even 
chance  of  being  shot  by  our  own  pickets,  who,  so  near 
the  enemy's  works,  stand  upon  very  little  ceremony, 
and  give  their  single  challenge  in  scarcely  audible  tones, 
lest  they  should  be  heard  too  far.  Twice  I  but  just  dis- 
tinguished it  among  the  crackling  underbrush;  and 
often  I  halted  abruptly,  doubting  whether  I  had  heard  it 
or  not.  Ordinarily,  having  found  the  picket- line,  it 
would  be  easy  to  reach  the  reserve:  but  here,  the 
pickets,  having  been  moved  after  dark,  gave  the  most 
contrary  directions ;  and  repeated  attempts  to  follow 
their  advice  only  bewildered  me  the  more  by  want  of 
success  in  ascertaining  where  they  had  brought  me." 

A  spot  is  seldom  found  more  perplexing  for  a  night 
tramp  than  that  seemingly  boundless  field,  with  its 
furrows  and  ditches  and  entangling  weeds,  and  the 


132  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

enemy  so  near  at  hand.  Men  who  were  then  on  post 
tell  to  this  day  of  the  many  bewildered  wanderers  who 
came  prowling  along  the  line  that  night  in  search  of 
the  reserve,  and  of  the  confusing  whistling  and  signal- 
calling  at  right  and  left  and  rear,  kept  up  for  hours  by 
the  lost  ones,  or  by  those  who  were  searching  for 
them.  Hardly  an  officer  left  his  position  but  he  had 
difficulty  in  finding  his  way  back  to  it.  It  was  near 
midnight  before  Camp  and  his  friend  were  again  to- 
gether at  the  reserve,  both  by  that  time  wellnigh 
exhausted  from  their  exertions  in  the  suffocating  air 
of  a  South  Carolina  July  night. 

"We  spread  Henry's  buffalo  and  my  blankets," 
wrote  Camp  the  next  day,  "over  an  India-rubber,  across 
the  furrows,  our  heads  resting  on  one  ridge,  our  feet 
over  another;  and  composed  ourselves  for  a  capital 
sleep,  tired  enough.  Never  were  poor  fellows  worse 
disappointed.  Mosquitoes  attacked  us  in  a  style  to 
which  rebels  wouldn't  have  been  a  circumstance.  I 
suppose  we  did  sleep  during  the  night ;  but  we  didn't 
know  it.  We  seemed  to  spend  every  moment  in  writh- 
ing into  new  positions  of  defense  or  suffering.  I  was 
driven  up  at  daylight.  Having  accomplished  that,  the 
enemy  retired,  and  now  seem  to  be  waiting  until  we 
try  to  sleep  again  at  night." 

Camp  omitted  in  that  letter  to  tell  of  an  act  of  gen- 
erous self-forgetfulness  of  his  that  morning.  The 
chaplain,  who  had  left  Seabrook  Island  in  poor  health, 
and  had  no  surplus  strength  to  expend,  suffered  acutely 


THOUGHTFUL  TENDERNESS.  133 

during  that  night  of  torment;  tossing  restlessly;  un- 
able to  sleep,  yet  unable  to  awake  fully;  at  times  pull- 
ing the  blanket  as  a  mosquito-bar  over  his  face  and 
hands,  to  swelter  under  its  oppressive  weight ;  then 
throwing  it  ofT  only  to  be  bitten  at  every  exposed  atom 
as  before;  and  thus  until  nearly  morning,  when  there 
came  to  him  in  his  half-consciousness  a  sense  of  ex- 
quisite relief  in  the  drawing-away  of  the  heavy  blanket, 
the  wiping  of  the  soaked  face,  the  fanning  of  the 
heated  brow,  the  keeping-back  of  the  persecuting 
swarm,  followed  by  such  delightful,  refreshing,  satisfy- 
ing repose,  as  he  scarce  ever  knew  before  or  since. 
Understanding  his  friend's  condition  from  his  own 
experience,  Camp  had  risen  to  care  for  him  with  affec- 
tionate tenderness :  and  there  had  sat,  for  nearly  two 
hours,  to  secure  sleep  to  the  one  of  whose  comfort  he 
was  ever  thus  considerate,  wakening  him,  finally,  only 
to  give  him  a  cup  of  fresh  and  invigorating  army  coffee 
which  he  had  had  p'repared.  Such  evidences  of  his 
warmth  of  heart  and  nobleness  of  nature  were  by  no 
means  rare  toward  the  one  blessed  with  his  friendship. 
"There  is  no  probability,"  Camp  added,  "that  we 
shall  do  any  fighting  here,  though  we  expected  to  come 
under  fire  when  we  marched  yesterday  afternoon.  The 
most  uncomfortable  sensations  connected  with  a  fight 
are  those  of  immediate  anticipation,  without  the  ex- 
citement of  action.  Such  we  experienced  then,  but 
army  life  has  rendered  them  quite  familiar.  Give  me 
a  short  march  to  the  field,  fight  or  no  fight." 


134  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

The  advanced  position  taken  on  Saturday  night  by 
General  Terry's  troops  was  held  for  several  days,  the 
different  regiments  alternating  in  picketing  its  front. 
During  the  afternoon  of  Wednesday,  July  15,  while 
the  Tenth  was  on  outpost,  the  enemy  made  a  demon- 
stration on  the  line  for  the  purpose  of  ascertaining  its 
location  and  strength,  but  retired  without  making  an 
attack.  Of  what  followed,  Camp  wrote : 

"  During  the  night,  there  were  occasional  shots 
along  the  line  of  outposts.  We  had  had  a  booth  con- 
structed, open  on  all  four  sides,  but  covered  at  the  top. 
Under  this,  dry  grass  was  thickly  spread.  Our  buffalo 
and  blankets  laid  upon  this  made  the  most  luxurious 
bed  we  had  enjoyed  since  leaving  Seabrook  Island; 
and,  after  being  disturbed  once  or  twice  in  the  evening 
by  slight  showers,  I  was  taking  the  comfort  of  it, 
when,  just  about  daylight,  I  was  aroused  by  the  bustle 
about  me.  'What  does  this  mean?'  said  I  to  a  man 
near  me.  'There's  so  much  firing/  said  he,  'that  the 
colonel  has  ordered  the  tents  struck  '  (shelter  tents, 
of  course).  I  opened  my  ears  :  there  was  the  popping 
of  not  very  distant  musketry,  growing,  every  instant 
that  I  listened,  louder  and  more  rapid.  There  was  no 
time  for  delay.  Henry  and  I  dressed  ourselves  by 
putting  on  our  coats  and  boots,  rolled  up  our  blankets, 
and  slung  our  haversacks.  As  we  did  so,  a  messenger 
came  to  say  that  the  Fifty -fourth  Massachusetts 
(colored),  who  were  picketed  on  our  right,  were  fall- 
ing back,  and  the  enemy  following  close  upon  them. 


A   MORNING  ATTACK.  135 

This  was  serious  news ;  for,  being  on  the  extreme  left, 
with  a  swamp  behind  us,  our  communications  with  the 
supports  in  the  rear  were  endangered.  Almost  at  the 
same  moment,  the  boom  of  artillery  came  to  our  ears 
from  the  left ;  and  a  glance  showed  us  that  the  enemy 
had  opened  upon  the  Pawnee,  which  lay  nearly  oppo- 
site us  in  the  river.  A  second  shot  followed  almost 
immediately  upon  the  first,  and  the  shriek  of  the  shell 
through  the  air  ended  with  a  heavy  crash  as  it  tore 
its  way  through  the  vessel's  timbers.  The  rebel  artil- 
lerists already  had  the  range;  and  two  batteries  at 
once  opened,  keeping  up  an  almost  incessant  roar  of 
explosions,  while  the  frequent  sound  of  splintering 
woodwork  showed  how  effective  was  their  fire. 

"A  cloud  of  smoke,  lit  up  with  constant  flashes, 
marked  their  position  within  easy  range  of  our  own ; 
and  the  plan  seemed  evident, — to  drive  in  the  center 
of  our  picket-line,  depriving  us  of  all  chance  of  sup- 
port; to  cripple  the  vessel  by  whose  guns  we  were 
covered,  and  thus  render  us  helpless  against  the  attack 
of  the  vastly  superior  force  which  could  easily  be 
brought  down  upon  us.  Under  this  fire, — wonderful 
for  its  precision  and  rapidity, — the  Pawnee  at  first 
seemed  to  show  no  signs  of  life.  Shot  after  shot  appar- 
ently raked  her  from  stem  to  stern:  still  no  answer. 
At  length  came  the  deep  thunder  of  her  huge  Parrott 
gun,  compared  with  which  the  voices  of  the  rebel 
field-pieces  were  like  the  barking  of  a  pack  of  curs 
against  a  mastiff.  But  the  wildness  of  her  fire  con- 


136  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

trasted  sadly  with  the  accuracy  of  the  enemy.  Her 
gunners  were  evidently  taken  by  surprise;  and  shell 
after  shell  burst  wide  of  the  mark,  while  with  tedious 
slowness  she  swung  gradually  broadside  on.  The  sight 
was  a  beautiful  and  exciting  one,  rarely  witnessed  to 
such  advantage  as  now. 

'•'  Meantime  we  were  not  idle.  Our  pickets  had 
been  sent  for,  with  orders  to  make  all  haste ;  and  from 
every  part  of  the  line  we  could  see  them  across  the 
wide  plain  coming  in  on  the  double-quick,  while  the 
sound  of  musketry  upon  the  right  grew  continually 
more  distinct  and  frequent.  As  the  pickets  reached 
the  reserve,  they  formed  line.  The  last  comers  re- 
ported that  the  enemy  were  plainly  to  be  seen  near  at 
hand  from  the  outposts,  a  few  hundred  yards  distant. 
Had  we  been  in  any  other  position  along  the  line,  it 
would  have  been  our  duty  to  resist  their  advance;  and 
we  should  have  retired  slowly,  if  we  had  retired  at 
all,  fighting  as  we  went.  Here  it  would  have  been 
the  useless  and  inevitable  sacrifice  of  the  whole  regi- 
ment by  isolation  from  the  rest  of  the  command. 
Colonel  Leggett  had  received  orders  with  reference  to 
this  contingency,  and  acted  upon  them,  as  it  proved, 
not  a  moment  too  soon. 

"The  order  was  given  to  march.  As  we  started, 
heavy  discharges  of  artillery  sounded  from  the  right ; 
at  least  a  section  or  two  of  a  rebel  battery  had  taken 
possession  not  far  from  us  in  that  direction.  In  reply 
to  these,  our  own  field-guns  soon  opened,  and  were 


AN    EXCITING    MOVE.  !$/ 

served  with  a  rapidity  and  accuracy  which  spoke  well 
for  our  friend  Captain  Rockwell  (of  the  First  Con- 
necticut Light  Battery),  and  compared  favorably  with 
the  rebel  fire.  So,  to  the  music  of  cannon  on  the 
right  and  left,  and  musketry  in  the  rear,  we  took  up 
our  unaccustomed  movement  away  from  the  front. 
The  rebels  and  ourselves  were  marching  upon  con- 
verging, lines,  and  their  distance  from  the  point  of 
intersection  was  but  slightly  greater  than  our  own.  It 
became  an  interesting  question,  how  much  before  them 
we  should  reach  it.  Thickets  and  hedges  for  the  first 
few  minutes  prevented  our  seeing  them,  and  we  moved 
in  ordinary  quick  time.  Coming  at  length  to  a  point 
whence  we  could  obtain  a  view  of  the  wide  plain,  the 
sight  that  disclosed  itself  was  a  startling  one.  Large 
bodies  of  gray-coated  men,  plainly  visible,  and  already 
within  rifle-range,  were  rapidly  and  steadily  moving 
down  toward  the  path  along  which  we  must  march ; 
their  advance  and  ours  very  nearly  upon  the  same 
line.  '  Double-quick  '  was  the  word ;  and  we  increased 
our  gait  to  a  trot.  Cut  off  by  such  a  force  as  that, 
our  case  was  hopeless :  it  was  life  or  death,  captivity 
or  freedom.  Few  words  were  spoken :  each  man  saved 
his  breath  and  strength  for  the  time  of  greatest  need, 
kept  his  place  in  the  ranks,  and  moved  steadily  for- 
ward, only  now  and  then  turning  his  head  to  see 
what  was  gained  or  lost.  The  dusk  of  morning  had 
not  yet  changed  to  full  daylight.  The  bushes  by  the 
roadside  partially  concealed  us,  and  we  were  probably 


138  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

still  unseen.  Looking  back  toward  the  place  we  had 
left,  a  long  line  of  cavalry  could  be  seen  advancing  in 
open  order;  the  enemy's  skirmishers  feeling  their  way 
toward  the  position,  which,  as  far  as  they  knew,  we 
still  occupied,  closing  about  it  from  all  sides. 

"  Five  minutes  later  that  morning,  and  I  should  be 
writing  to  you,  if  writing  at  all,  from  a  Charleston 
prison.  [He  was  there  before  this  letter  reached  his 
home.]  The  sight  was  a  fine  one :  an  outside  spectator, 
at  least,  would  have  considered  it  so.  It  is  seldom  that 
one  sees  simultaneous  operations  of  artillery,  cavalry, 
and  infantry  upon  the  same  field.  We  were  naturally 
more  interested  in  results  than  appearances.  Had  fire 
then  been  opened  upon  us,  it  would  have  put  the 
soldierly  discipline  and  steadiness  which  our  men  were 
proving  so  well  to  a  severer  test  than  I  should  have 
wished  to  see.  It  was  not  done.  We  soon  reached 
and  passed  the  point  of  greatest  danger,  and,  leaving 
the  road  as  soon  as  the  nature  of  the  ground  made  it 
practicable,  made  our  way  through  the  woods  to  our 
camp,  and  took  our  position  in  the  line  of  battle  upon 
which  several  regiments  were  already  formed. 

"  Great  as  was  our  relief  at  escaping  the  more  im- 
mediate danger,  the  excitement  of  the  day  was  by  no 
means  over.  The  rebel  forces  which  had  so  nearly 
intercepted  us  were  soon  in  line  before  us.  Their  flag, 
with  its  white  field  and  red  union,  transversely  crossed 
with  blue,  floated  at  intervals  along  the  front,  show- 
ing the  space  occupied  by  each  regiment.  Mounted 


THE   FIFTY-FOURTH    MASSACHUSETTS.  139 

officers  galloped  along  their  ranks;  and  it  looked  as 
if  for  once  we  were  to  have  a  fair  field-fight.  So  we 
stood  for  a  little  time,  watching  for  the  ball  to  open. 
Then,  instead  of  the  advance  which  we  expected,  they 
faced  to  the  right,  and  passed  at  a  double-quick  along 
our  front,  and  out  of  sight  behind  the  woods.  This 
might  be  a  movement  more  threatening  than  a  direct 
one.  Our  left  was  greatly  exposed.  Should  their 
battery  flank  and  enfilade  us,  our  own  regiment  and 
the  Fifty-sixth  would  be  in  a  very  critical  position, 
unable  to  resist  an  attack  to  any  advantage.  Mean- 
time the  artillery  and  gunboats  kept  up  a  constant 
roar.  A  shell,  which  probably  came  from  the  latter, 
exploded  in  the  woods,  half  a  dozen  rods  behind  us ; 
and  their  fire  repeatedly  endangered  our  skirmishers 
more  than  that  of  the  enemy.  For  half  an  hour,  we 
were  in  suspense:  then  came  word  that  they  had  re- 
tired. The  artillery  fire  ceased,  and  we  were  dismissed 
from  our  position." 

The  loss  in  the  engagement  was  exclusively  to  the 
Fifty-fourth  Massachusetts,  Colonel  Shaw's  regiment, 
which  had  fought  so  bravely,  in  retiring  from  the 
picket-line  under  overwhelming  pressure,  as  to  win 
respect  from  all  other  troops  pf  the  command. 

The  night  after  the  battle,  James  Island  was  quietly 
evacuated  by  our  troops ;  the  purpose  of  its  occupancy, 
in  drawing  forces  from  the  direction  of  Morris  Island 
while  General  Gillmore  obtained  a  foothold  there, 
being  successfully  accomplished.  The  march  in  dark- 


I4O  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

ness  and  rain  across  the  marshes  and  over  the  rickety 
causeways  toward  Cole  Island  was  tedious  and  perplex- 
ing ;  and  a  brief  rest  during  the  next  day,  at  that  point, 
was  most  grateful  to  the  weary  men  of  Stevenson's 
brigade.  Yet  another  night  called  for  a  new  move. 
Hours  of  waiting  on  the  beach  for  the  rising  tide  were 
followed  by  hours  of  cramped  confinement  on  a  crowded 
barge  in  a  drenching  rain. 

The  morning  of  Saturday,  July  18,  brought  the 
troops  to  the  shore  of  Folly  Island.  Marching  to  its 
upper  end,  they  were  ferried  thence  across  Lighthouse 
Creek  to  Morris  Island,  just  as  the  heavy  bombard- 
ment of  Fort  Wagner  was  commenced  by  the  land 
batteries  and  the  fleet  of  ironclads  and  wooden  gun- 
boats. The  tired  troops  from  James  Island  had  but 
little  time  for  rest. 

"About  5  P.M.,"  wrote  Camp,  "came  the  order  to 
fall  in,  and  march  down  to  the  shore.  We  were  not 
the  only  troops,  it  seemed,  who  had  received  the  same 
instructions.  Far  up  the  beach  stretched  the  long 
column,  of  which  Stevenson's  entire  brigade  formed 
less  than  a  third  part.  There  was  little  doubt  as  to 
the  work  before  us,  and  that  little  was  speedily  set  at 
rest  by  word  from  the  general  himself.  We  were  to 
storm  the  fort.  Our  hearts  beat  high  and  fast.  Our 
men  were  faint  and  weary  with  days  and  nights  of 
sleeplessness  and  toil.  Scarcely  three  hours'  rest, 
and  now  work  to  which  all  else  had  been  as  play  was 
set  before  them ;  but  the  announcement  sent  new 


IN    COLUMN    FOR   ASSAULT.  14! 

strength  through  each  vein.  To  storm  the  fort — that 
was  a  new  and  untried  task.  On  the  open  field,  and 
before  rifle-pits  and  field-works,  they  had  more  than 
once  already  marched  through  the  rain  of  bullets,  and 
over  captured  batteries.  But  now  it  was  to  wade  the 
ditch,  to  clamber  with  hand  and  foot  up  the  steep 
slope  beyond,  while  grape  and  canister  would  pour 
forth  with  the  very  blaze  of  the  powder  in  their  faces 
from  the  huge  siege-guns,  into  whose  muzzles  they 
must  look,  to  meet  at  the  parapet's  edge  the  bayonets 
of  its  defenders,  and  force  the  foe  upward  and  back- 
ward over  his  own  vantage-ground.  The  feeling  was 
not  of  doubt  or  shrinking,  but  of  curiosity  mingled 
with  firm  resolve,  be  the  untried  struggle  what  it 
might, — wonder  with  fierce  excitement  Among  the 
groups  of  officers,  as  we  stood  at  a  halt,  and  along  the 
ranks,  some  faces  glowed  with  the  strange  joy  of  com- 
bat ;  but  most  had  the  fixed  look  of  determination, 
swallowing  up  every  trace  of  emotion. 

"We  anticipated,  at  first,  the  leading  place  in  the 
assault ;  but  when  the  column  finally  moved  forward, 
we  were  some  distance  from  its  head.  As  we  advanced 
the  bombardment  grew  hotter  and  hotter,  while  the 
enemy,  on  their  part,  sent  only  an  occasional  shot  or 
shell — sometimes  from  the  Cummings  Point  Battery, 
sometimes  even  from  distant  Sumter — whizzing  by  in 
front  of  us,  or  passing  overhead,  and  dashing  up  the 
water  a  little  distance  from  the  shore.  Reaching  at 
length  the  outermost  range  of  sand-hills,  from  which 


142  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

level  marshy  ground  stretches  away  toward  the  fort, 
some  twelve  or  fourteen  hundred  yards  distant,  our 
brigade  was  detached  from  the  column,  and  sent  into 
the  trenches,  to  remain  under  cover  until  reinforce- 
ments should  be  needed  at  the  front.  It  was  a  disap- 
pointment not  to  be  allowed  to  participate  in  the  first 
attack;  but  the  decision  was  probably  made  in  view  of 
the  physical  exhaustion  of  the  men  after  their  recent 
hardships. 

"  For  a  few  moments  we  stood  still  in  the  shelter 
thus  afforded,  and  listened  with  a  feeling  of  compara- 
tive security  to  the  howl  of  shot  and  shell  over  us,  as 
the  fire  of  the  enemy  increased  in  rapidity  and  fre- 
quency. But  the  desire  to  see  the  progress  of  the 
movement  conquered  all  else;  and  Henry  and  I 
speedily  mounted  the  bank  and  looked  out  before  us, 
taking,  a  few  minutes  afterward,  still  another  position, 
partially  covered,  and  yet  able  to  command  a  view  of 
the  entire  field.  Our  column  was  still  moving  on  in 
silence,  the  rapidly  advancing  darkness  almost  hiding 
them  from  our  sight.  On  our  left,  within  a  few  yards 
of  us,  stood  General  Gillmore  and  his  staff,  watching 
intently,  from  a  slight  elevation,  all  that  lay  beneath, 
regardless  of  the  no  inconsiderable  danger  to  which  we 
were  all  exposed.  The  intervals  were  short  between 
the  discharges  of  the  enemy's  artillery.  We  could  see 
the  burning  fuse  describe  its  curve  through  the  air, 
unable  sometimes  to  determine  whether  from  a  piece 
of  theirs  or  of  our  own — now  diverging  widely  to  the 


ATTACK    ON    FORT   WAGNER.  143 

right  or  left,  now  seeming  to  come  directly  toward  us; 
then,  as  we  stooped  behind  our  defenses,  the  swift  rush 
of  the  shell  and  the  loud  report  of  its  explosion — harm- 
less if  in  front,  dangerous  if  overhead  or  within  short 
distance  to  the  rear.  One,  bursting  a  few  yards  behind 
Henry  and  myself,  sprinkled  us  with  the  earth  which 
it  threw  up. 

"Night  was  soon  fairly  upon  us,  and  the  scene 
became  one  of  absolute  magnificence.  The  firing  of 
the  fleet  was  almost  incessant — twenty  or  thirty  dis- 
charges in  a  minute — keeping  up  one  uninterrupted 
peal  of  thunder;  while  each  flash  lighted  up  the  vessel 
from  which  it  came,  the  smoke  which  rolled  upward, 
and  the  water  beneath,  with  vivid  brilliance.  Nothing 
in  the  way  of  pyrotechnics  could  equal  in  effect  a 
broadside  from  the  New  Ironsides;  its  swift  tongues 
of  flame  piercing  deep  into  the  darkness,  and  bringing 
out  into  momentary  distinctness  the  immense  hull 
from  which  they  sprung,  and  the  heavy  boom  of  the 
discharges  coming  over  the  water  after  long  apparent 
delay,  while  the  fancy  followed  into  the  dark  fort  the 
fourteen  hundred  pounds  of  solid  iron  which  flew  mean- 
time, and  wondered  if  they  did  their  work. 

"  When  a  small  boat  put  off  from  the  shore  toward 
the  fleet,  and  when,  shortly  afterward,  the  firing  from 
the  vessels  grew  slack,  and  then  ceased  altogether,  we 
knew  what  it  must  mean,  and  looked  still  more  anx- 
iously over  the  plain.  A  few  minutes  of  comparative 
silence,  and  then  a  burst  of  flame  from  the  walls  of  the 


144  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

fort, — otherwise  undistinguishable  in  the  darkness, — 
and  the  sharp  crackle  of  musketry  told  us  that  the 
assault  had  commenced.  Heavy  discharges  of  artillery 
followed  in  rapid  succession,  flashing  like  heat-light- 
ning, while  the  little  jets  of  fire  from  the  rifles  made  a 
sparkling  frieze  along  the  dark  parapet.  Ah !  how 
men  were  falling  there ! — mowed  down  by  whole  com- 
panies, as  grape-shot  and  bullets  tore  through  their 
ranks.  Nothing  but  flash  and  report  was  to  be  seen 
or  heard.  We  could  only  fancy  the  fearful  work  that 
was  going  on,  and  hope  that  the  result  would  compen- 
sate for  it  all.  Now  the  fire  seemed  to  be  growing 
less  hot,  occasionally  almost  ceasing  for  a  brief  space, 
then  bursting  out  again  with  new  fury. 

"  We  watched  eagerly  and  waited,  but  no  news  came 
back  to  us  ;  nor  did  General  Gillmore  himself  seem  to 
receive  any  information  from  the  front.  Finally,  as  if 
impatient  of  the  delay,  and  anxious  that  no  time  should 
be  lost  when  help  was  called  for,  he  ordered  our  brig- 
ade forward  to  the  outermost  lines,  a  mere  sand-bag 
breastwork,  where  a  few  pieces  of  artillery  had  lately 
been  put  in  position.  We  advanced  in  line  of  battle 
irregularly  enough  over  the  marshy,  uneven  ground, 
in  darkness  so  thick  that  but  a  small  part  of  the  line 
could  be  seen  at  once.  Shell  flew  thickly  over  and 
around  us,  exploding  on  all  sides;  but  we  were 
unharmed,  and  soon  found  ourselves  again  under  shel- 
ter, such  as  it  was,  several  hundred  yards  farther  to 
the  front  than  before. 


SIGNS    OF    FAILURE.  145 

"  The  fight  was  still  raging,  but  with  less  intensity 
than  an  hour  previous.  Again  we  watched  its  varying 
aspect,  until  at  length  a  messenger  came.  'Our forces 
were  within  the  fort,  but  needed  support ;  Stevenson's 
brigade  would  go  forward.'  Gladly  we  obeyed  the  sum- 
mons ;  but  the  execution  of  the  order  had  been  hardly 
commenced  when  it  was  countermanded,  and  another 
of  ill-boding  significance  substituted.  We  were  again 
to  form  line,  and  stop  all  stragglers  who  might  endeav- 
or to  pass  us.  Few  came.  Once  or  twice  in  the  dark- 
ness, I  saw  a  man  moving  toward  the  rear.  '  What 
are  you  doing  here?'  said  I  to  one  poor  fellow,  as  I 
stopped  him.  'I'm  wounded,'  said  he;  and,  know- 
ing that  I  would  not  accept  the  threadbare  excuse  of 
every  straggler  without  proof,  took  my  hand  and  laid  it 
into  the  gory  furrow  plowed  upon  his  head  by  some 
fragment  of  shell.  I  didn't  keep  him  long  waiting. 
Another  was  wounded  in  the  leg,  but  still  able  to 
walk.  And  so  they  came;  though  most  of  those  who 
could  make  their  own  way  back  to  hospital  followed 
the  beach  down,  and  we  saw  nothing  of  them.  Once 
a  horrible  chorus  of  groans  and  shrieks  rose  from  the 
direction  of  the  water,  and  then  all  was  silent  again. 
We  were  told  afterward  that  the  ambulances,  in  the 
darkness,  ran  over  some  wounded  men. 

"About  eleven  o'clock  a  report  was  brought  that  we 
had  been  successful,  and  it  was  later  than  that  before 
the  firing  altogether  ceased;  but  by  midnight  there 
was  very  little  doubt  that  the  result  had  been  unfavora- 

10 


146  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

ble.  Once  or  twice  we  were  roused  by  the  report  of 
the  sentries  that  movements  were  to  be  seen  upon  the 
plain  in  front ;  but  we  were  exceedingly  weary,  and  I, 
at  least,  lost  hardly  a  moment,  after  each  story  was 
pronounced  false,  before  sinking  back  into  sound 
sleep." 

The  Tenth  not  being  engaged,  the  chaplain  had 
turned  aside  from  his  regiment  when  the  earliest 
wounded  came  back  from  the  assaulting  column,  to 
aid  in  caring  for  them  ;  and  he  was  separated  from  his 
friend  until  the  dawning  of  the  gloomy  Sunday  morn- 
ing which  succeeded  that  night  of  carnage  and  defeat. 
Their  regiment  holding  the  outermost  lines  of  defense, 
the  friends  could  then  see  distinctly  the  entire  battle- 
field, with  its  scores  of  dead  and  wounded  yet  uncared 
for, — the  rising  tide  actually  drowning  some  of  the 
poor  fellows  who  were  unable  to  crawl  away  to  higher 
ground  than  the  sand-hollows  in  which  they  lay ;  but 
it  was  impossible  for  them  to  do  anything  for  the  relief 
of  those  beyond  their  lines.  When,  howrever,  about 
noon,  they  were  told  by  their  commanding  officer  that 
a  flag  of  truce,  which  they  had  seen  pass  out,  had  se- 
cured a  brief  armistice,  that  the  dead  might  be  buried 
and  the  wounded  removed,  the  chaplain  was  glad  of  an 
opportunity  to  go  and  minister  to  those  who  so  sorely 
needed  help;  and  Camp  was  ready  to  accompany  him, 
as  always, —  not  only,  in  this  instance,  that  he  might 
be  of  service,  but  in  the  hope  of  hearing  of  some  college 
classmates,  who  were  from  the  vicinity  of  Charleston. 


MADE   PRISONERS.  147 

The  friends  went  out,  with  the  full  approbation  of 
their  superior  officers,  for  a  work  which,  as  the  duty 
of  one,  was  the  mission  of  both.  They  had  no  reason 
to  anticipate  exposure  to  capture,  or  deem  their  move- 
ment in  any  sense  venturesome.  Passing  a  few  rods 
beyond  their  pickets,  they  met  a  Confederate  sergeant 
with  a  squad  of  men,  who  neither  halted  them  nor 
seemed  surprised  at  their  advance.  Of  him  they 
inquired  if  the  armistice  still  held.  "  I  believe  so," 
was  his  reply.  To  make  the  matter  sure,  they  asked 
for  his  officers.  He  pointed  to  a  group  close  at  hand  ; 
and,  as  the  friends  moved  thither,  one  of  the  officers 
stepped  forward  quickly,  with  the  remark,  "  Prisoners! 
gentlemen."  A  statement  being  made  as  to  the 
understood  arrangement  and  the  object  of  the  visit, 
the  officer  claimed  that  the  agreement  covered  only  a 
cessation  of  hostilities,  for  attention  to  dead  and 
wounded  by  each  party  within  its  own  lines,  and  in- 
sisted on  considering  the  friends  as  prisoners.  They 
protested  against  being  held  under  such  circumstances, 
while  engaged  in  a  humane  work,  at  a  time  of  admitted 
amity,  especially  as  the  sergeant  on  what  was  now 
claimed  as  the  line  had  freely  permitted  them  to  pass. 

One  of  the  Charleston  officers  of  the  party  was  evi- 
dently unwilling  to  have  them  detained ;  but  the  captain 
on  General  Hagood's  staff,  who  had  first  stopped  them, 
being  a  renegade  Northerner,  had  less  of  fairness,  and 
refused  to  release  them  until  their  case  was  laid  before 
his  general,  then  in  command  of  Fort  Wagner.  After 


148  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

considerable  delay  word  came  back,  that  while  General 
Hagood  did  not  wish  to  take  any  advantage  of  a  mis- 
understanding in  such  a  matter,  he  could  not  assume 
the  responsibility  of  releasing  the  friends,  now  that  they 
were  inside  the  lines,  without  special  authority  from 
General  Ripley,  at  Charleston,  to  whom  he  would  sub- 
mit their  case.  After  two  or  three  more  hours  of  anx- 
ious waiting,  the  friends  were  led  blindfold  along  the 
beach,  past  Fort  Wagner,  to  Cummings's  Point,  where 
they  remained  until  sundown,  being  told  all  the  while 
that  the  question  as  to  their  release  was  yet  undecided. 
In  the  evening  they,  with  other  prisoners,  including 
many  wounded,  were  taken  up  to  Charleston  by 
steamer,  stopping  for  a  while  at  Fort  Sumter ;  being 
probably  the  last  Union  officers  at  that  world-renowned 
fortress  before  its  destruction,  a  few  weeks  later. 

Reaching  the  city,  they  were  marched  with  the  col- 
ored privates  of  the  Fifty -fourth  Massachusetts  Regi- 
ment, amid  the  jeers  of  the  populace,  through  the 
streets  to  the  provost-marshal's.  Thence  they  were 
taken  to  the  gloomy  jail,  and  at  ten  o'clock  at  night 
thrust — twenty  in  all — into  a  small  and  filthy  room, 
without  furniture,  and  not  large  enough  for  all  to  find 
a  place  on  the  floor,  without  overlapping  one  another. 
By  special  order  from  General  Ripley,  the  friends  were 
to  pass  the  night  with  the  colored  privates,  instead  of 
with  white  officers ;  but  that  was  the  least  annoyance 
which  made  their  first  night  in  prison  so  sad  and 
gloomy. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

PRISON  LIFE  AND  ESCAPE. 

;TRANGE  sensations,"  wrote  Camp,  "are 
those  which  a  man  experiences  during  his 
first  hours  in  prison.  The  consciousness 
of  helplessness  under  restraint  produces 
a  feeling  of  absolute  suffocation,  a  night- 
mare oppression,  with  a  nervousness  that  makes  it 
impossible  to  sit  or  stand  still,  to  concentrate  the 
thoughts  on  any  subject,  or  to  do  anything  but  pace 
up  and  down  the  longest  possible  beat  which  the  nar- 
row limits  of  confinement  will  afford. 

"  We  were  allowed  in  the  morning  to  purchase  some 
bread,  and  a  decoction  of  rye  or  barley  as  a  substitute 
for  coffee.  Early  in  the  forenoon,  Henry  and  I  were 
removed  from  the  room  in  which  we  had  slept,  taken 
through  long  corridors  with  their  grated  iron  doors, 
up  flight  after  flight  of  massive  stone  stairs,  to  a  room 
in  one  of  the  upper  stories, — the  quarters  of  imprisoned 
officers.  Here  we  found  the  officers  taken  on  Satur- 
day night  in  the  assault.  .  .  . 

149 


I5O  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

"  Henry  and  I  had  been  congratulating  one  another 
that  we  were  together,  speaking  of  how  much  harder 
to  endure  all  this  would  be  but  for  our  mutual  help 
and  sympathy,  when,  about  the  middle  of  the  fore- 
noon, an  order  came  detailing  the  captured  chaplain 
and  nineteen  men  to  assist  in  caring  for  the  wounded 
at  the  hospital.  It  was  a  heavy  blow  for  us  both.  I 
would  gladly  have  gone  as  one  of  the  nineteen ;  but 
orders  were  strict  that  no  officer  should  be  included 
in  the  number.  We  parted  sadly  enough — more  so 
than  on  the  eve  of  battle ;  for  we  had  more  apprehen- 
sions for  the  future.  Up  to  this  hour  matters  had  not 
worn  so  gloomy  an  aspect.  Together,  we  had  felt  com- 
paratively strong ;  in  the  prospect  of  separation,  des- 
pondent enough.  The  day  dragged  heavily  along.  .  .  . 

"At  evening,  the  non-commissioned  officers  and 
privates  were  taken  down  into  the  prison  yard,  paroled 
not  to  bear  arms  again  until  exchanged,  and  returned 
to  their  cells.  These  were  in  the  same  corridor  with 
our  own :  all  the  doors  within  it  were  kept  open,  and 
we  could  pass  freely  among  them.  It  was  rumored 
that  they  were  to  go  to  Columbia  in  the  morning ; 
whether  we  should  accompany  them  we  did  not  hear. 
Even  when  we  were  all  ordered  down  to  the  yard  at 
five  o'clock  the  next  morning,  we  thought  it  was  only 
that  our  quarters  might  be  cleaned.  The  roll  was 
called,  and  we  were  formed  in  line  for  a  march.  It 
was  hard  thus  to  be  separated  so  much  farther  from 
Henry,  without  the  opportunity  oi  exchanging  a  word 


FROM  CHARLESTON  TO  COLUMBIA.       151 

with  him,  so  much  as  to  say  good-by.  Parting  thus 
in  an  enemy's  country,  a  hundred  miles  and  more  of 
distance  to  be  placed  between  us,  the  prospect  of  our 
ever  meeting  again  seemed  doubtful  and  distant.  He 
would  not  even  know  of  my  going  until  I  was  far 
away :  it  was  the  climax  of  all  I  had  dreaded.  We 
were  marched  to  the  depot,  put  on  board  the  cars,  and 
the  train  started  almost  immediately." 

The  party  reached  Columbia  that  night,  and  were 
taken  at  once  to  Richland  Jail,  where  they  found  the 
officers  captured  in  the  first  assault  on  Wagner. 

"We  and  our  new  fellow-prisoners  introduced  our- 
selves to  one  another,"  wrote  Camp,  "  talked  over,  as 
in  the  Charleston  prison,  all  the  news  we  brought;  and 
we  speedily  began  to  feel  ourselves  comparatively  at 
home  in  accommodations  far  superior  to  those  we 
had  left.  At  three-quarters  past  eight,  the  bell  in  the 
tower  of  the  town-hall,  only  a  few  rods  distant,  rang 
rapidly  for  a  few  minutes, — the  signal,  we  were  told, 
for  negroes  to  leave  the  streets.  As  the  clock  struck 
the  last  stroke  of  nine,  the  watchman  in  the  balcony 
beneath  it  called  aloud,  with  curious  inflection  of  tone, 
'  Past  nine  o'clock.'  We  took  the  hint  and  retired. 
At  quarter-past  nine,  the  watchman's  voice  sounded 
again,  '  All's  well ! '  In  fifteen  minutes  more,  '  Half- 
past  nine  o'clock  ! '  Again,  'All's  well ! '  Then/  Past 
ten  o'clock  ! '  and  so  through  the  night, — though  for 
my  part  I  hardly  heard  him  once. 

"  The  next  day  passed  slowly.     I  was  still  exceed- 


152  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

ingly  nervous,  and  full  of  anxiety  on  account  of  my 
separation  from  Henry.  I  spent  a  large  part  of  the 
time  pacing  up  and  down  the  room,  and  fancying  what 
might  be,  and  might  have  been,  until  I  was  tired 
enough  to  sit  down  upon  the  floor  and  rest.  I  wrote 
to  Henry  that  afternoon,  giving  the  letter  to  the  cap- 
tain of  the  guard,  with  that  which  I  wrote  home." 
In  that  letter  to  his  friend,  Camp  said,  hopefully : 
"  No  one  here  seems  to  know  of  or  believe  in  any 
interruption  of  the  arrangements  for  exchange.  The 
Charleston  papers  mention  recent  exchanges  at  the 
West,  and  I  hope  we  may  be  put  rapidly  around  the 
track.  Wouldn't  it  be  pleasant  to  meet  on  our  own 
side  of  the  lines  within  two  or  three  weeks  ?  I  do  not 
flatter  myself  that  this  is  certainly  to  be.  I  know  that 
months  of  imprisonment  and  separation  may  be  before 
us ;  but  I  try  to  look,  as  far  as  it  is  reasonable  to  do 
so,  upon  the  bright  side,  and  succeed  in  this  much 
better  than  at  first.  But  for  my  anxiety  on  your 
account,  I  should  be  in  good  spirits  ;  even  as  it  is,  I  do 
not  call  myself  blue.  We  are  both  in  God's  hands. 
He  has  dealt  with  us  very  kindly  hitherto;  let  us  trust 
him  for  the  future.  I  do  believe  that  he  will  permit 
us  again  to  stand  side  by  side  in  our  country's  service; 
and,  whatever  else  may  be  his  decree,  that  we  shall 
see  by  and  by  that  all  was  for  the  best.  I  have  been 
wont  so  to  lean  upon  you,  that  I  feel  sadly  the  loss  of 
your  support;  but  our  attachment  to  one  another 
grows  stronger  through  trial,  and  there  are  bright 


REUNION    IN    JAIL.  153 

days  yet  in  store  for  us.  Meantime,  take  courage. 
There  is  much  to  be  done.  I  know  you  will  not  break 
down,  however  hard  the  struggle.  I  trust  I  shall  not 
until  we  come  *  out  of  the  shadow  into  the  sun.' " 

"  By  Thursday,"  continued  Camp,  in  his  home  narra- 
tive, "  I  had  begun  to  settle  down  somewhat  more  into 
my  position.  I  contrived  to  find  occupation  for  most 
of  my  time,  and  made  up  my  mind  that,  if  Henry  and 
I  were  only  here  together,  we  could  not  merely  endure, 
but  enjoy,  the  life.  I  thought  it  all  over :  it  was  utterly 
impossible  that  his  services  at  the  hospital  would  be 
dispensed  with  until  all  the  wounded  were  dead  or 
convalescent.  That  would  be  months,  and  the  trial 
would  be  more  than  he  could  endure :  how  doubtful 
the  prospect  of  our  ever  meeting  again  !  That  doubt, 
and  nothing  else,  made  the  future  too  dark  to  bear 
anticipation.  Friday  morning,  about  ten  o'clock,  the 
door  opened,  and  he  came  in.  Oh,  what  a  meeting 
for  us  that  was !  I  sha'n't  try  to  tell  you  anything 
about  it.  The  day  was  gone  before  we  knew  it,  and 
all  that  have  followed  have  flown  like  it.  Imprison- 
ment is  not  tedious  with  him  for  a  companion.  I  lean 
upon  him  as  everywhere,  and  he  so  much  more  than 
doubles  my  strength !  We  read  together,  write 
together,  whittle  together,  talk  together,  do  every- 
thing together.  The  value  of  our  friendship  could 
hardly  appear  elsewhere  as  it  does  here  ;  nowhere  else 
could  we  be  so  thoroughly  inseparable  or  so  greatly 
dependent  upon  one  another. 


154  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

"  Our  life  is  so  different  from  that  of  those  around 
us !  The  ennui  which  oppresses  them  we  know  noth- 
ing about :  so  far  from  it,  we  have  not  time  for  all  that 
we  would  do ;  and  unfinished  work  accumulates  from 
day  to  day.  The  hardships  we  must  undergo  are  so 
far  lightened,  that  we  can  fairly  say  that  we  enjoy 
prison  life.  It  won't  do,  here  in  prison,  to  give  even 
thought  free  scope, — not  that  others  attempt  to  limit 
it ;  but  we  ourselves,  for  our  own  sakes,  must  do  so. 

"  I  say  we  enjoy  prison  life  :  it  is  because  we  will  not 
think.  If  we  allowed  ourselves  to  imagine  what  we 
are  losing  by  absence  from  our  regiment  at  such  a  time 
as  this — the  time  and  occasion  to  which  we  have  been 
looking  forward  for  tedious  months  of  inactivity — the 
prospect  of  which  has  kept  us  cheerful  and  hopeful 
through  many  perplexities  and  disappointments  (and 
you  know  how  bitter  to  me  already  is  the  thought  of 
Roanoke,  Goldsborough,  Whitehall,  and  Kinston) ;  if 
we  dwelt  upon  the  difficulty,  perhaps  impossibility, 
of  communicating  with  you  ;  our  anxiety  in  regard  to 
your  health  and  welfare,  and  that  which  we  know 
you  must  be  feeling  for  us ;  the  loss  we  are  sustaining 
in  property,  which  none  in  the  regiment  can  attend  to 
as  is  needful ;  the  doubtful  prospect  of  release  in  the 
unfortunate  condition  of  affairs  between  our  own 
authorities  and  the  Confederate,  in  regard  to  prisoners 
of  war ;  the  possibility  of  months,  or  even  years,  of 
close  confinement, — if  we  brooded  over  all  these,  and 
the  multitude  of  other  subjects  for  sad  thought,  we 


LIFE    IN    PRISON.  155 

should  drive  ourselves  crazy  in  twenty-four  hours.  It 
took  us  some  little  time  to  learn  this ;  but  now  we 
understand  it,  and  manage  to  busy  our  thoughts  in 
great  measure  with  the  trivial  matters  of  every-day  life 
in  prison.  What  is  the  quality  of  the  corn-bread  this 
morning  ?  Who  shall  go  after  the  pail  of  water  ? 
How  long  will  the  sergeant  allow  us  to  stay  in  the 
yard  for  air  and  exercise  ? — these  are  the  questions  to 
which  we  give  our  attention.  When  the  mind  craves 
more  than  this,  we  sit  down  to  write  or  talk  on  mis- 
cellaneous subjects.  Nine  or  ten  hours  for  sleep,  and 
so  we  live." 

Henry  Camp  was  a  man  of  mark  in  prison  as  else- 
where. The  most  haughty  Southern  officer  with 
whom  he  came  in  contact  recognized  his  true  nobility, 
and  gave  him  deference ;  while  the  more  brutal  of  his 
guards  were  softened  into  respectful  treatment  of  him 
by  the  irresistible  power  of  his  commanding  presence. 
His  fellow-prisoners  respected  and  esteemed  him. 
The  treasures  of  his  stored  and  well-trained  intellect 
were  much  in  demand.  In  the  lack  of  books  during 
the  early  prison  months,  frequent  questions  of  dispute 
arose  as  to  points  of  fact,  principles  of  science,  or  sub- 
jects of  general  reading ;  and  he  was  rarely  referred 
to  in  vain  for  authority  as  to  the  truth.  German  offi- 
cers were  there ;  and,  when  their  language  was  under- 
taken as  a  study,  they  were  surprised  at  his  knowledge 
of  its  structure,  and  the  rules  governing  its  use,  espe- 
cially as  he  disavowed  any  claim  to  be  called  a  German 


156  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

scholar.  He  played  chess,  and,  although  pitted  against 
some  skilful  antagonists,  proved  himself  more  thor- 
oughly the  master  of  the  game  than  any  of  his  oppo- 
nents,— being  often  successful,  single-handed,  against 
several  of  the  best  players  in  consultation. 

His  intimacy  with  the  chaplain  was  closer,  and,  if 
possible,  more  noticeable,  in  prison  than  elsewhere. 
Outside,  the  two  had  been  called  the  "  twins."  In 
confinement,  the  old  negro  woman  who  daily  brought 
in  rations  spoke  of  them  uniformly  as  "  de  mates ;  " 
and  they  were  thenceforward  thus  designated  by  their 
companions.  The  sentries  spoke  to  others  by  name, 
but  to  these  as  "you  two;"  always  allowing  them 
liberty  together,  as  if  they  had  but  one  existence.  The 
chaplain  was  permitted  to  go  out  on  the  Sabbath  into 
the  yard,  or  upstairs,  to  preach  to  the  Union  privates. 
The  officers,  except  Adjutant  Camp,  were  not  at  first 
allowed  to  attend  these  services.  "You  two  can  go; 
nobody  else,"  was  the  usual  announcement.  The 
friends  were  rarely  an  arm's  length  from  each  other  in 
all  their  months  of  confinement  together.  And  while 
for  weary  weeks  the  chaplain  was  low  with  jail-fever, 
as  also  when  he  was  disheartened  and  depressed  with 
long  confinement,  he  owed,  under  God,  his  life  and 
renewed  strength  to  the  gentle  and  faithful  ministry, 
and  the  inspiring  words  and  brave  example,  of  his 
peerless  friend. 

But  few  Union  officers  have  been  confined  in  Co- 
lumbia Jail.  Not  more  than  about  thirty  were  together 


NEW    COMERS.  157 

there  at  any  time  during  the  stay  of  the  two  friends. 
At  first  there,, were  only  those  captured  in  the  two 
assaults  on  Wagner.  Then  Captain,  now  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Payne,  of  the  One  Hundredth  New  York, 
was  brought  in  from  the  hospital,  having  been  wounded 
and  taken  in  one  of  his  daring  scouts  up  Charleston 
Harbor.  Afterwards  came  the  naval  officers  of  the 
unsuccessful  assaulting  party  against  Sumter,  including 
Lieutenants  S.  W.  Preston  and  B.  H.  Porter,  who  lost 
their  lives  at  Fort  Fisher  so  soon  after  their  release. 
Chaplain  Fowler,  of  Colonel  Higginson's  First  South 
Carolina  Regiment,  was  the  next  new-comer.  Few 
besides  these  have  been  there  within  the  past  two 
years.  The  extensive  prison-pens  outside  the  city 
were  of  later  origin.  The  enlisted  men  taken  at  Wag- 
ner, and  the  sailors  and  marines  taken  at  Sumter, 
remained  but  a  short  time  at  Columbia  before  being 
forwarded  to  Belle  Island  to  suffer  through  the  winter. 
The  rations  furnished  the  officers  were,  at  first, 
cooked  by  colored  women,  coming  in  from  outside  by 
permission  of  the  guard  ;  then,  as  money  grew  scarce, 
the  officers  cooked  for  themselves,  taking  turns  in  the 
kitchen  a  week  at  a  time.  United  States  treasury-notes 
were  easily  exchanged  for  Confederate  currency,  at  the 
rate  of  one  to  four  or  five,  notwithstanding  the  rigid 
orders  against  such  barter.  Newspapers  were  contra- 
band for  several  months,  but  they  could  usually  be  ob- 
tained, in  spite  of  official  commands  to  the  contrary. 
Finally,  permission  was  granted  for  their  daily  purchase. 


158  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

For  a  while  there  was  a  prospect  of  exchanges  being 
resumed;  but,  as  the  chances  of  that  diminished,  plans 
of  escape  were  talked  over.  Camp  chafed  under  a 
sense  of  confinement,  and  in  view  of  his  loss  of  active 
service.  "  I  have  put  to  you,"  he  wrote  home,  "  that 
side  of  prison  life  which  is  least  dark  ;  but  how  gladly 
would  I  exchange  for  this  any  imaginable  privation  or 
suffering  in  freedom  !  My  experience  in  or  out  of  the 
army  has  never  as  yet  furnished  anything  resembling 
it.  God  grant  it  never  again  may,  if  the  end  of  this 
finds  me  still  living!  Not  that  I  am  especially  blue 
just  now :  far  more  cheerful  than  a  great  part  of  the 
time  hitherto.  I  fully  realize  how  much  worse  off  I 
might  and  may  be  ;  but  this  is  captivity — a  word  whose 
meaning  I  have  but  lately  learned.  .  .  .  Just  now,  it  is 
not  so  much  the  mere  fact  of  confinement,  as  the 
knowledge  that  we  are  losing  opportunities  that  life 
can  never  replace.  A  day  of  freedom  and  activity  in 
times  like  these  is  worth  a  year  of  the  old  inaction 
which  used,  you  know,  so  to  discontent  me.  But  this 
is  just  the  one  thing  which  it  won't  do  for  me  to  think 
or  write  of." 

He  determined  to  risk  everything  in  an  attempt  to 
rejoin  his  regiment.  The  chaplain's  sickness  at  first 
interfered  with  the  project :  then  the  announcement 
that  the  latter  was  to  be  released  induced  its  postpone- 
ment until  he  should  pass  the  lines,  and  send  back 
certain  desired  information. 

Early  in  November  the  two  friends  were  separated 


THOUGHTS    OF    HOME.  159 

by  the  removal  of  the  chaplain  to  Richmond  for  release. 
The  parting  was  a  sad  one  to  both, — scarcely  less  so 
to  the  one  who  was  to  regain  liberty  by  the  change, 
than  to  the  other  who  was  to  remain  a  prisoner.  The 
hours  would  have  dragged  even  yet  more  wearily  to 
the  chaplain  but  for  his  hope  to  secure,  by  untiring 
endeavor,  his  friend's  release  on  special  parole. 

On  the  Sunday  evening  before  Thanksgiving,  Camp 
wrote  in  his  one-page  home-letter :  "  Sabbath  hours 
drag  even  more  slowly  than  those  of  the  other  days  of 
the  week.  To-day  has  been  long ;  it  is  almost  bed- 
time now.  We  had  singing  earlier  in  the  evening, — 
old,  familiar  hymns  and  tunes ;  and  I  wondered  if  you 
were  not  singing  at  the  same  time,  as  we  used  to, 
gathered  around  the  piano  in  the  east  room.  You 
have  gas  there  now :  it  wouldn't  look  quite  natural  to 
me.  I  would  like  to  sit  in  the  sofa-corner,  almost  in 
the  dark,  and  hear  Nellie  and  Kate  in  that  duet  I 
always  liked  so  much, — '  Far  o'er  the  wave ;'  and  then 
join,  all  of  us  together,  in  '  Lenox,'  or  '  Coronation,'  or 
some  of  those  stirring  old  Methodist  melodies,  winding 
up  with  '  Homeward  Bound.'  Do  you  remember  our 
singing, '  When  shall  we  meet  again  ? '  the  last  Sabbath 
evening  that  I  was  at  home  ?  How  little  we  imagined 
then  that  Thanksgiving  week  of  this  year  would  find 
us  separated  by  any  such  cause  as  now!  Thank  God 
that  it  is  not  death,  which  would  have  seemed  so  much 
more  probable;  and  that  we  may  yet  hope  another 
Thanksgiving  will  find  us  together  in  an  unbroken 


I6O  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

circle!"  [That  next  Thanksgiving  he  passed  in  his 
heavenly  home.] 

While  the  chaplain  was  laboring  for  his  friend's 
release,  the  latter  was  perfecting  his  plans  of  escape; 
and,  in  a  little  more  than  a  month  after  the  separation 
of  the  two,  he  left  the  jail  with  a  comrade;  but,  after  a 
week  in  the  woods,  both  were  recaptured,  and  re- 
manded to  their  former  quarters.  From  Camp's  full 
record  of  that  exciting  adventure,  written  out  in  the 
leisure  of  later  days  in  jail,  the  following  extracts  are 
made: 

"The  possibility  of  escape  was  a  subject  of  thought 
and  conversation  among  us  quite  early  in  our  imprison- 
ment. After  Henry's  departure,  I  made  up  my  mind 
to  try  the  experiment  as  soon  as  matters  seemed  ripe 
for  it.  The  reports  of  exchange  just  at  hand,  which 
coaxed  us  into  hope  from  week  to  week,  for  four 
months,  no  longer  tantalized  us.  I  was  exceedingly 
restless  and  impatient.  There  was  scarcely  a  day  of 
which  I  did  not  spend  more  than  one  hour  in  thinking 
of  the  possibilities  and  probabilities  of  the  attempt ; 
and  many  a  night  did  my  bed-fellow  and  I  lie  awake 
after  others  had  gone  to  sleep,  and  discuss  the  merits 
of  various  plans.  I  used  to  pace  our  empty  front  room, 
and  think  of  the  sluggish  wretchedness  of  our  life  here, 
and  the  joy  of  freedom  gained  by  our  own  efforts, — 
the  same  round  of  thought  over  and  over  again — until 
I  was  half  wild  with  the  sense  of  restraint  and  of  suffo- 
cation. 


A    PLAN    OF   ESCAPE.  l6l 

"  Our  plan,  as  finally  agreed  upon,  was  simple. 
Twice  during  the  day  we  were  allowed  half  an  hour  in 
the  yard  for  exercise,  being  counted  when  we  came  in, 
or  soon  after,  to  assure  the  sergeant  of  the  guard  that 
we  were  all  present.  In  this  yard  was  a  small  brick 
building,1  consisting  of  two  rooms  used  as  kitchens, — 
one  by  ourselves,  the  other  by  the  naval  officers.  The 
latter  of  these  had  a  window  opening  into  a  woodshed, 
from  which,  part  of  the  side  being  torn  away,  there 
was  access  to  a  narrow  space  between  another  small 
building  and  the  jail  fence.  Our  intention  was  to 
enter  this  kitchen  during  our  half-hour  of  liberty,  as 
we  were  frequently  in  the  habit  of  doing,  to  talk  with 
those  who  were  on  duty  for  the  day,  remain  there  after 
the  cooks  had  gone  in,  leaving  lay-figures  to  be 
counted  in  our  stead  by  the  sergeant ;  thence  through 
the  woodshed,  and,  by  removing  a  board  of  the  high 
fence,  already  loosened  for  the  purpose,  into  the  adjoin- 
ing premises,  from  which  we  could  easily  gain  the 
street.  The  latter  part  of  the  movement — all  of  it, 
indeed,  except  the  entrance  into  the  kitchen,  where  we 
were  to  remain  quiet  for  several  hours — was  to  be 
executed  after  dark. 

"The  street  once  gained,  my  comrade  and  I  intended 
to  take  the  railroad  running  northward  along  the 
banks  of  the  Broad  River,  follow  it  during  the  first 
night,  while  our  escape  was  still  undiscovered,  then 

1  Shown  in  the  engraving  on  the  opposite  page. 
II 


l62  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

strike  as  direct  a  course  as  possible  for  the  North 
Carolina  line.  Through  the  latter  state  we  hoped  to 
make  our  way  westward  across  the  mountains,  where 
we  should  find  friends  as  well  as  enemies,  ultimately 
reaching  Burnside's  lines  in  East  Tennessee.  The 
distance  to  be  passed  over  we  estimated  at  about  three 
hundred  miles;  the  time  which  it  would  occupy,  at 
from  twenty  to  thirty  days.  The  difficulties  in  our 
way  were  very  great,  the  chances  for  and  against  us 
we  considered  certainly  no  better  than  equal.  What 
would  be  the  results  of  failure,  we  could  not  antici- 
pate ;  loss  of  life  certainly  was  not  the  least  likely  of 
them. 

"  Our  preparations  for  such  a  trip  were,  of  necessity, 
few.  We  manufactured  a  couple  of  stout  cloth  haver- 
sacks, in  which,  though  hardly  as  large  as  the  army 
pattern,  we  were  to  carry  ten  days'  provision, — each 
of  us  two  dozen  hard-boiled  eggs,  and  about  six  quarts 
of  what  we  found  described  in  '  Marcy's  Prairie  Trav- 
eler '  as  the  most  nutritious  and  portable  of  all  food, — 
corn  parched  and  ground, — just  what  we  children 
used  to  call  '  rokeeg.'  Besides  a  rubber  blanket  to 
each,  we  concluded,  for  the  sake  of  light  traveling,  to 
carry  but  a  single  woolen  one.  This,  with  one  or  two 
other  articles  of  some  bulk,  we  placed  in  a  wash-tub 
and  covered  with  soiled  clothes,  in  order  to  convey 
them,  without  exciting  suspicion,  to  the  kitchen.  My 
baggage  for  the  journey,  besides  what  has  already 
been  referred  to,  consisted  of  an  extra  pair  of  cotton 


NERVOUS   WAITING.  163 

socks,  a  comb,  toothbrush,  and  piece  of  soap,  needle 
and  thread,  a  piece  of  stout  cloth,  a  flask  about 
one-third  full  of  excellent  brandy,  a  piece  of  lard,  a 
paper  of  salt,  pencil  and  paper,  and  my  home  photo- 
graphs. 

"Two  dummies  (or  lay-figures)  were  to  be  made. 
The  first  was  a  mere  pile  of  blankets;  but  its  position 
in  the  second  story  of  our  double-tier  bedstead  pro- 
tected it  from  close  observation.  For  the  second,  I 
borrowed  a  pair  of  pants,  and  for  one  foot  found  a  cast- 
off  shoe.  The  upper  part  of  the  figures  was  covered 
with  a  blanket,  and  the  face  with  a  silk  handkerchief; 
attitude  was  carefully  attended  to.  I  flattered  myself 
that  the  man  was  enough  of  a  man  for  pretty  sharp 
eyes,  and  was  satisfied  when  Lieutenant  B.  came  in, 
and  unsuspectingly  addressed  him  by  the  name  of  the 
officer  whose  pants  he  wore.  .  .  . 

"After  the  last  thing  was  done  which  could  be  done 
in  the  way  of  preparation,  time  passed  very  slowly.  I 
was  impatiently  nervous,  and  spent  the  hours  in  pacing 
the  rooms  and  watching  the  sluggish  clock-hands.  The 
excitement  of  anticipation  was  hardly  less  than  that 
which  I  have  felt  before  an  expected  fight.  The  per- 
sonal stake  at  issue  was  little  different." 

Camp's  comrade  in  this  venturesome  move  was  Cap- 
tain Valentine  B.  Chamberlain,  of  the  Seventh  Con- 
necticut. "  Well  informed  (an  ex-editor),  plucky,  and 
of  excellent  physique,  well  calculated  to  endure  hard- 
ship, and  a  good  swimmer.  He  was  that  day  on  duty 


164  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

in  the  kitchen.  At  4  P.  M.,  we  went  out,  as  usual,  for 
exercise.  Entering  the  kitchen  a  few  minutes  before 
our  half-hour  had  expired,  I  concealed  myself  in  a  snug 
corner,  before  which  one  or  two  towels,  a  huge  tin 
boiler,  and  other  convenient  articles,  were  so  disposed 
as  to  render  the  shelter  complete  should  so  unusual 
an  event  occur  as  a  visit  from  the  guard  after  that 
hour.  Here,  like  another  Ivanhoe  in  the  beleagured 
castle,  I  received  a  running  report  of  the  course  of 
events  outside  from  the  culinary  gentlemen,  who  had, 
in  their  present  costume  and  occupation,  about  as  little 
resemblance  to  United  States  officers  as  to  the  fair 
Jewess  of  the  story. 

"  It  was  but  a  few  minutes  before  the  corporal,  act- 
ing for  the  day  as  sergeant,  was  seen  to  enter  the  room 
to  which  all  but  the  cooks  and  myself  had  returned. 
It  was  Corporal  Addison,  alias  '  Bull-Head/  a  lubberly 
English  clodhopper,  looking  just  like  the  men  in  the 
illustrations  to  Miss  Hannah  More's  stories.  Our 
confidence  that  all  would  go  well  was  based  in  great 
measure  upon  his  stupidity ;  and  it  was  with  greatly 
increased  apprehensions  that  I  heard  that  he  was  ac- 
companied to-night  by  Captain  Senn  [the  commandant 
of  the  post  guard]. 

"  Rather  than  pass  the  ordeal  of  a  visit  from  him, 
had  we  anticipated  it,  we  should  probably  have  deferred 
our  attempt  another  day,  even  at  the  risk  of  losing  our 
chance  altogether.  He  opened  the  door  and  went  in. 
I  waited  anxiously  to  hear  what  would  follow.  He 


ALMOST    DISCOVERED.  1 6$ 

seemed  to  stay  longer  than  usual.  Was  there  any- 
thing wrong  ?  Suspense  lengthened  the  minutes  ;  but 
it  was  of  no  use  to  question  those  who  could  see, 
while  the  door  remained  closed,  no  more  than  myself. 
Presently  I  was  told  that  the  door  was  open ;  he  was 
coming  out;  there  seemed  to  be  no  alarm;  he  was 
stepping  briskly  toward  the  yard.  We  breathed  more 
freely.  A  moment  more,  and  he  was  going  back,  evi- 
dently dissatisfied  with  something.  He  re-entered  the 
room.  '  It's  all  up,'  said  my  reporter.  I  thought  my- 
self that  there  was  little  doubt  of  it,  and  prepared,  the 
moment  any  sign  of  alarm  appeared,  to  come  from  my 
retreat,  which  I  preferred  to  leave  voluntarily  rather 
than  with  the  assistance  of  a  file  of  men.  Too  bad  to 
be  caught  at  the  very  outset,  without  so  much  as  a 
whifT  of  the  air  of  freedom  to  compensate  us  for  the 
results  of  detection!  But  no:  Captain  Senn  comes 
quietly  out,  walks  leisurely  through  the  hall,  and  his 
pipe  is  lit — best  evidence  in  the  world  that  all  is  tran- 
quil, his  mind  undisturbed  by  anything  startling  or 
unexpected. 

"  But  it  was  too  soon  to  exult ;  congratulations  were 
cut  short  by  sudden  silence  on  the  part  of  my  friends. 
I  listened :  it  was  broken  by  a  step  on  the  threshold, 
and  the  voice  of  the  captain  close  beside  me.  I  didn't 
hold  my  breath,  according  to  the  established  precedent 
in  all  such  cases ;  but  I  sat  for  a  little  while  as  still  as 
I  did  the  first  time  that  ever  my  daguerreotype  was 
taken ;  then,  cautiously  moving  my  head,  I  caught  a 


1 66  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

view  of  the  visitor  as  he  stood  hardly  more  than  at 
arm's  length  from  me.  He  was  merely  on  a  tour  of 
inspection ;  asked  a  few  unimportant  questions  of  the 
cooks,  and,  after  a  brief  call,  took  his  leave.  It  was 
with  more  than  mere  physical  relief  that  I  stretched 
myself,  and  took  a  new  position  in  my  somewhat 
cramped  quarters.  Immediate  danger  was  over ;  we 
had  nothing  more  to  fear  until  the  cooks  went  in. 
We  listened  anxiously,  until  it  seemed  certain  that  all 
danger  from  another  visit  and  the  discovery  of  Captain 
Chamberlain's  absence  was  over ;  then  sat  down  to  wait 
for  a  later  hour.  .  .  . 

"  After  perhaps  an  hour  of  quiet,  we  set  about  what 
little  was  to  be  done  before  we  were  ready  to  leave  the 
building — the  rolling  of  our  blankets,  not  yet  taken 
from  the  tub  in  which  they  had  been  brought  out,  the 
filling  of  our  haversacks,  etc.  To  do  this  in  perfect 
silence  was  no  easy  task.  Any  noise  made  was  easily 
audible  outside ;  the  window  looking  toward  the  jail 
had  no  sash,  and  the  blinds  which  closed  it  failed  to 
meet  in  the  center.  A  sentry  stood  not  far  distant. 
More  than  once,  startled  by  the  loud  rattling  of  the 
paper  which  we  were  unwrapping  from  our  provisions, 
or  the  clatter  of  some  dish  inadvertently  touched  in 
the  darkness,  we  paused,  and  anxiously  peeped  through 
the  blinds  to  see  if  the  sentry  had  noticed  it.  The 
possibility  of  any  one's  being  in  the  kitchen  at  that 
hour  was  probably  the  last  thought  to  enter  his  mind. 
Many  times  we  carefully  felt  our  way  around  the 


NEW    OBSTACLES.  l6/ 

room, — stocking-foot  and  tiptoe, — searching  for  some 
article  laid  down  perhaps  but  a  moment  before,  lost, 
without  the  aid  of  eyesight  to  recover  it,  until  at 
length  we  thought  ourselves  ready  to  pass  into  the 
adjoining  room,  whose  window  opened  upon  the 
woodshed. 

"  The  only  communication  between  these  rooms  was 
by  a  small  hole  broken  through  the  chimney-back, 
scarcely  large  enough  to  admit  the  body,  and  with  the 
passage  further  embarrassed  by  the  stoves  on  either 
side,  so  placed  that  it  was  necessary  to  lie  down,  and 
move  serpent-wise  for  a  considerable  distance.  Cap- 
tain Chamberlain  made  the  first  attempt,  and  discovered 
that  the  door  of  the  stove  on  the  opposite  side  had 
been  left  open,  and  wedged  in  that  position  by  the 
wood,  crowded  in  for  the  morning's  fire,  so  that  the 
passage  was  effectually  obstructed.  The  hole  had  to 
be  enlarged  by  the  tearing  away  of  more  bricks,  which, 
as  fast  as  removed,  he  handed  to  me  to  be  laid  on  one 
side.  Patient  labor  at  length  made  a  sufficient  open- 
ing, and  he  passed  through.  I  handed  to  him  the 
blankets,  haversacks,  and  shoes,  and  with  some  diffi- 
culty followed." 

The  woodshed  gained,  the  loosened  board  was 
removed  from  the  fence,  and  replaced  after  they  had 
passed  through.  Across  a  kitchen-garden  they  hur- 
ried to  the  open  street  beyond,  and  then,  without  meet- 
ing any  person,  through  Columbia  to  the  railroad. 

"  Reaching  the  iron  track,  we  turned  northward, 


1 68  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

and  were  speedily  out  of  sight  of  houses,  fairly  started 
upon  our  journey  through  the  country.  I  wish  I 
could  describe  the  sensation  of  pleasure  that  thrilled 
through  every  fiber  of  our  frames  with  an  exhilaration 
like  that  of  wine !  After  five  months  of  confinement,  of 
constant  and  unavailing  chafing  under  the  galling  con- 
sciousness of  restraint  and  of  helplessness,  we  could 
hardly  realize  that  we  were  free ;  that  we  should  not 
wake  in  the  morning  to  find  ourselves  within  the  nar- 
row jail  limits,  under  the  eyes  and  the  orders  of  our 
old  sentries.  To  be  again  the  masters  of  our  own  acts 
was  like  being  endowed  with  a  new  faculty.  We 
breathed  deep  and  long.  We  could  have  shouted  with 
the  excitement  of  each  free  step  upon  solid  earth — 
each  draught  of  free  air  under  the  open  sky.  That 
first  hour  of  liberty  would  alone  have  paid  for  all  the 
hardships  we  were  to  encounter.  I  shall  have  pleasant 
memory  of  it  as  long  as  I  live. 

"Our  path  led  us  along  the  banks  of  Broad  River, 
the  dash  of  whose  waters  was  constantly  in  our  ears, 
and  whose  swift  current  we  could  often  see  in  the  clear 
starlight,  rushing  down  in  rapids,  or  foaming  around 
huge  rocks.  Such  sights  and  sounds  we  had  not 
known  since  we  left  our  New  England  homes ;  and 
we  enjoyed  to  the  full,  not  only  these,  but  each  bush 
that  we  passed,  each  little  stream  that  flowed  across 
the  way,  each  thicket  of  dark  undergrowth,  or  hillside 
covered  with  forest,  that  lifted  itself  beyond ;  all  was 
fresh  to  us. 


A   PERILOUS   PATH.  169 

"  It  was  a  cold  night — just  the  temperature,  how- 
ever, for  walking,  and  upon  a  good  path  we  should 
have  made  rapid  progress.  But  the  ties  were  laid 
upon  the  surface  of  the  ground  instead  of  being  sunk, 
and  were  at  the  most  inconvenient  distance  possible 
from  one  another.  This  was  not  the  worst.  Before 
we  had  gone  two  miles  we  came  to  what  seemed  to  be 
a  stream  of  some  size,  crossed  by  a  trestle-work  bridge. 
We  must  pass  it  by  stepping  from  tie  to  tie.  It  was 
difficult  to  see  in  the  darkness  how  far  beneath  us  the 
water  flowed,  but  it  was  evidently  at  no  inconsiderable 
depth,  and  the  light  was  none  too  strong  to  enable  us 
to  plant  our  footsteps  with  a  feeling  of  security.  We 
supposed,  however,  that  a  short  distance  would  place 
us  again  upon  solid  ground,  and  pushed  on  slowly  and 
carefully.  We  were  disappointed.  Beyond  the  current 
of  the  stream  was  a  wide  marsh,  stretching  as  far  as 
we  could  see,  and  across  this  lay  our  road.  It  was 
many  minutes  of  tedious  traveling  before  we  again 
reached  firm  footing. 

While  we  were  congratulating  ourselves  that  our 
trouble  was  over,  we  were  cut  short  by  a  second 
bridge,  of  similar  structure,  but  higher,  if  anything, 
than  the  first,  and  certainly  longer.  Beneath  us  we 
could  scarcely  see  anything  save  a  black  gulf;  be- 
fore us,  the  track  vanishing,  at  a  few  rods'  distance, 
into  darkness.  To  add  to  the  difficulty,  many  of  the 
ties  were  rotten  to  such  a  degree  that  we  dared  not 
trust  our  weight  upon  the  center  of  them ;  many  dis- 


I/O  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

placed,  so  that  it  was  not  easy  to  pass  the  chasm  cre- 
ated by  their  absence. 

"We  walked  on  and  on,  expecting  every  minute  to 
see  the  end,  but  no  end  came  in  sight — the  distance 
seemed  interminable.  I  might  overstate  if  I  should 
attempt  to  estimate  accurately  the  length  and  number 
of  these  bridges  over  which  we  passed  during  the 
night,  the  nervousness  of  the  task  being  increased 
toward  morning  by  a  heavy  white-frost,  which  made 
the  footing  still  more  uncertain  ;  but  I  am  sure  that  I 
am  within  bounds  in  reckoning  them  by  miles.  .  .  . 
As  morning  drew  near  we  were,  of  course,  far  more 
fatigued  than  by  any  ordinary  eight  hours  of  walking, 
and  had  made  much  less  progress  than  we  hoped  to 
make,  before  daylight  should  render  it  necessary  to 
take  shelter  in  the  woods.  We  were  both  thoroughly 
exhausted  with  long-unaccustomed  exercise,  and  could 
scarcely  walk  without  staggering.  We  looked  at  one 
another,  and  were  astonished  at  the  haggard  faces  and 
weary  forms  which  we  saw." 

After  some  difficulty  in  finding  a  sufficiently  secluded 
place  for  a  rest,  they  at  length  reached  a  spot  which 
seemed  to  answer  their  purpose. 

"  The  roots  of  an  uptorn  tree  upon  one  side,  the  trunk 
of  a  fallen  one  upon  another,  with  a  sheltering  hillock 
and  surrounding  undergrowth,  furnished  us  with  such 
protection  that  a  passer-by,  even  within  a  few  paces, 
would  not  have  been  likely  to  see  us.  We  were  too 
tired  to  eat  We  spread  a  rubber  blanket  upon  the 


IMAGINARY    DANGERS.  I/ I 

ground,  a  woolen  one  over  us,  and,  with  our  haver- 
sacks for  pillows,  were  speedily  sleeping  as  we  had  not 
done  before  since  we  left  Morris  Island,  and  exchanged 
a  life  of  hard  work  for  a  harder  one  of  inaction.  How 
long  we  had  slept  when  I  awoke,  I  could  not  tell ;  but 
I  was  too  thoroughly  chilled  to  rest  longer.  I  listened 
before  I  raised  my  head,  lest  there  might  be  some  one 
near.  What  was  that  crackling  of  the  dry  leaves  at  a 
little  distance  ?  I  closed  my  eyes  again  and  lay  still. 
Surely  those  were  cautious  footsteps  that  seemed  to 
draw  near  and  halt,  and  then  retreat  again.  Then  all 
was  quiet.  I  woke  Captain  Chamberlain,  telling  him 
I  feared  we  were  discovered,  and  perhaps  at  that  mo- 
ment watched.  Even  if  we  were,  however,  it  was  of 
no  use  to  wait,  and  we  rose.  No  one  in  sight.  We 
searched  the  bushes  in  the  direction  of  the  sound.  No 
sign  of  any  one's  having  been  there ;  and,  after  a  few 
minutes,  we  convinced  ourselves  that  it  was  a  false 
alarm.  It  was  not  the  only  one  which  we  raised  for 
one  another  during  the  day,  nervously  suspicious  as 
we  were  of  every  cracking  bough,  every  moving  object. 
Once  Captain  Chamberlain  pointed  out  to  me  a  soldier 
in  gray  uniform  behind  some  bushes  only  a  few  rods 
distant,  evidently  watching  us.  But,  before  I  could 
make  him  out,  he  resolved  himself  into  his  harmless 
components  of  tree-trunk  and  branch. 

"  We  rolled  our  blankets  in  convenient  form  to  sling 
across  the  shoulder,  and,  much  refreshed,  although 
with  joints  somewhat  stiff  and  lame,  started  again 


1/2  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

northward,  intending  to  halt  for  breakfast  as  soon  as 
sunshine  and  exercise  should  warm  our  blood  a  little. 
It  was  not  long  before  circulation  was  brisk  again ;  and 
a  sunny  hillside  furnished  us  with  a  breakfast-room, 
which,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  compared  favorably  with 
that  we  had  occupied  the  morning  before.  Then  we 
made  the  first  trial  of  our  patent  provisions.  The  eggs, 
with  salt  for  seasoning,  were  capital,  but  our  stock  was 
limited.  We  allowed  ourselves  one  each, — the  bulk 
of  our  meal  consisting  of  the  rokeeg.  Palatable  enough 
we  found  it,  albeit  somewhat  dry,  and  it  proved  exceed- 
ingly nutritious.  A  day  or  two  later,  after  it  had  been 
dampened  and  dried  again,  partially  at  least,  it  was 
almost  entirely  tasteless,  and  had  no  more  relish  or 
even  food-flavor,  than  so  much  sawdust.  We  could 
only  tell  when  we  had  eaten  enough  by  estimating  the 
quantity  which  had  vanished  or  the  time  consumed 
in  the  operation.  Still,  it  supported  our  strength  as 
hardly  anything  else  in  the  same  quantity  could  have 
done,  and  we  were  ready  to  indorse  Captain  Marcy's 
recommendation  of  it. 

"  Rest  and  food  had  made  new  men  of  us.  We 
pushed  cheerily  along  through  wood,  over  hill,  and 
across  field.  The  traveling  was  neither  very  difficult, 
nor  easy  enough  to  admit  of  rapid  progress.  The 
woods  were  quite  open,  and  we  frequently  crossed 
cultivated  land.  Houses  frequently  interrupted  us,  and 
much  time  was  consumed  in  the  long  circuit  we  had 
to  make  to  pass  them  without  danger  of  being  ob- 


A   TRAVELED    ROAD.  173 

served.  The  country  was  altogether  too  thickly  set- 
tled for  our  convenience.  About  2  P.  M.  we  found 
ourselves  fairly  brought  to  a  stand-still — open  country 
before  us  with  houses  in  sight,  and  no  way  of  getting 
through  under  cover. 

"  We  found  an  excellent  shelter,  well  protected, 
although  near  a  road;  lay  down  behind  an  old  long- 
neglected  wood-pile  and  slept  again,  woke,  dined,  and 
waited  for  dark.  As  soon  as  it  was  fairly  dusk,  we 
started  once  more  upon  our  course.  We  soon  reached 
a  road,  upon  which,  during  the  afternoon,  we  had  ob- 
served a  rider  moving  along  at  some  distance, — the 
first  man  we  had  seen  since  leaving  jail.  We  hesitated 
whether  to  follow  this  route  or  attempt  to  push 
through  the  woods  in  the  dark.  We  had  not  intended 
to  venture  upon  the  roads  after  the  first  night,  but 
considering  the  chance  that  our  escape  was  still  undis- 
covered, and  the  difficulty  of  making  any  progress 
otherwise,  we  concluded  to  run  the  risk,  exercising  the 
utmost  possible  caution  with  reference  to  avoiding  any 
whom  we  might  meet." 

Having  a  narrow  escape  from  detection  by  a  pass- 
ing horseman,  they  pressed  on,  until,  across  a  curve 
in  the  road,  they  saw  the  lights  of  a  house,  and  their 
quick  ears  caught  the  sound  of  steps  and  voices  from 
within  or  near  it. 

"  Approaching  this  place,  in  addition  to  the  voices 
so  distinctly  heard  through  the  quiet  night  air,  we 
could  see  near  it  the  bright  glare  of  a  fire  kindled  out 


THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 


of  doors,  —  perhaps  a  tar-kiln  or  a  coal-pit  blazing  up. 
This  we  must  avoid,  and  we  turned  aside  accordingly 
into  the  woods.  It  was  a  tedious  circuit  that  we  had 
to  make  before  we  could  leave  them  safely.  We 
stumbled  over  rock  and  fallen  tree,  in  the  darkness  of 
the  dense  undergrowth  ;  plunged  into  brook  and 
swamp;  tore  our  way  through  wildernesses  of  briers, 
from  which  we  came  out  with  bleeding  hands  and 
tattered  clothing,  making  so  slow  and  so  difficult 
progress,  that  we  were  more  than  ever  disposed,  in  the 
absence  of  any  positive  evidence  of  danger,  to  keep 
the  traveled  route  whenever  it  was  possible." 

Thenceforward  they  followed  the  woods  by  day,  and 
the  road  by  night.  At  the  close  of  their  second  day's 
journey,  to  their  sincere  regret,  it  began  to  rain. 

"At  4  P.  M.  the  first  drops  fell.  Darkness  came 
on  almost  immediately,  and  we  took  an  oblique  direc- 
tion which  we  thought  would  bring  us  in  a  few  min- 
utes back  to  the  road  which  we  had  crossed  shortly 
before  dinner,  and  parallel  to  which  we  had  been 
traveling  for  several  hours.  But  either  the  road 
curved  sharply  from  us,  or  we  had  wandered  farther 
from  it  than  we  thought.  We  reached  a  swamp, 
which  certainly,  from  what  we  remembered  of  the 
conformation  of  the  land,  ought  not  to  lie  between  us 
and  the  line  which  we  wished  to  strike.  There  was 
no  passage  but  to  wade  through.  Dense  thickets 
obstructed  our  way;  rain  and  darkness  made  each 
obstacle  more  serious  ;  and  we  were  additionally  puz- 


AN    INVISIBLE    OX -TEAM.  1/5 

zled  by  the  possibility  that  a  traveled  path  which  we 
had  crossed  some  time  before,  thinking  it  from  its 
appearance  a  by-way,  might  have  been  the  road  itself, 
and  that  we  were  now  only  plunging  ourselves  deeper 
and  deeper  into  the  woods.  Still  we  pushed  on,  un- 
willing to  believe  ourselves  lost,  and  were  greatly 
relieved,  after  a  tedious  and  discouraging  tramp,  in 
coming  out  at  length  upon  what  was  unmistakably 
the  track  for  which  we  had  been  so  long  searching. 

"The  rain  had  not  yet  injured  the  walking,  and  we 
made  for  a  while  rapid  progress.  Just  after  descend- 
ing a  gentle  hill,  while  crossing  a  stretch  of  low 
ground,  we  heard  what  seemed  to  be  the  rattle  of  a 
cart  on  the  slope  behind  us,  and  the  loud  and  distinct 
voice  of  a  man  calling  to  his  oxen.  We  made  all 
haste  to  shelter  ourselves ;  and,  having  done  so  by 
lying  down  behind  some  logs  near  the  roadside,  waited 
for  the  passage  of  the  team-.  All  was  still :  not  a 
sound  of  life  anywhere  to  be  heard.  We  were  almost 
ready  to  rise,  thinking,  in  spite  of  our  ears,  that  we 
must  have  been  mistaken;  when  the  voice,  full  and 
clear,  came  once  more  down  the  road,  apparently  close 
at  hand.  We  lay  quiet:  there  were  no  indications  of 
its  owner's  approach.  We  waited  patiently:  nothing 
broke  the  silence  of  the  night,  except  the  patter  of  the 
rain,  and  the  sighing  of  a  low  wind  which  accompanied 
it.  Convinced,  at  length,  that  it  was  useless  to  remain 
longer  concealed,  we  rose,  and  went  on  our  way.  It 
would  be  hardly  more  than  a  fair  exercise  of  the 


THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 


privilege  belonging  to  every  chronicler  of  his  own 
travels,  to  give  to  this  Southern  Sleepy  Hollow  its 
spectral  darkey  and  fractious  yoke  of  goblin  two-year- 
olds,  which  it  deserves,  and  for  which  the  time  and 
circumstances  were  fitting.  I  certainly  know  of  no 
other  way  of  accounting  for  the  facts  just  set  forth. 

"The  roads  were  well  furnished  with  guide-posts; 
but  they  were  tall,  and  the  pitchy  darkness  of  the 
night  made  it  impossible  to  read  their  directions  from 
the  ground.  Half  a  dozen  of  these,  with  the  assistance 
of  a  lift  from  Captain  Chamberlain's  broad  shoulders, 
I  climbed  during  the  night,  —  awkward  business  enough, 
with  their  sharp  angles  and  smooth  wet  sides;  but  the 
information  they  gave  us  was  invaluable." 

Two  or  three  times  in  the  course  of  the  evening  or 
night,  they  were  seen  by  passers  on  the  road,  without 
special  notice  being  taken  of  them.  After  more  than 
twenty  miles  of  travel  since  the  morning,  they  stopped 
in  the  rain  for  greatly  needed  rest. 

"At  the  division  of  two  plantations,  near  a  gateway, 
we  found  at  length  a  fence-angle,  where,  by  laying 
across  it  two  or  three  rails,  and  bending  down  a 
couple  of  saplings,  we  made  for  ourselves  a  seat,  and 
a  support  upon  which  we  could  rest  our  heads.  Wrap- 
ping the  woolen  blanket  about  us,  throwing  one  of 
the  rubbers  across  our  shoulders,  and  drawing  the 
other  over  our  heads,  we  were  tolerably  protected 
from  the  rain,  though  not  from  the  wind.  In  this 
way,  too,  we  could  keep  our  provisions  dry  :  had  we 


CRAMPED    AND    CHILLED. 

attempted  to  lie  down,  ourselves  and  our  haversacks 
would  speedily  have  been  drenched  together. 

"We  dropped  asleep,  in  spite  of  the  cold,  in  a  very 
few  minutes,  and  slept  soundly  for  some  time.  Waking 
again  about  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  we  found 
ourselves  chilled  to  the  bone,  and  suffering  from  a 
species  of  cramp  that  made  it  impossible  for  us  to 
remain  longer  in  the  position  where  we  were.  There 
was  no  prospect,  however,  of  altering  our  situation  for 
the  better  if  we  should  move,  since  it  had  been  with 
difficulty  that  we  had  found  even  our  present  resting- 
place.  We  opened  our  haversacks,  and  food  restored 
the  blood  in  some  degree  to  its  circulation.  With 
this  relief  we  contented  ourselves  as  best  we  could, 
and  succeeded  in  falling  asleep  again.  When  we  woke 
once  more,  it  was  about  four  o'clock,  still  pitchy  dark, 
and  still  raining ;  but  we  determined  to  move  on, — 
anything  rather  than  remain  where  we  were.  We 
could  hardly  rise  from  the  rails  on  which  we  were 
sitting ;  and,  when  we  attempted  to  walk,  so  cramped 
and  numb  was  every  muscle,  that  it  was  with  difficulty 
we  could  drag  one  foot  after  the  other. 

"It  was  not  my  first  experience  of  bivouacking 
under  a  winter's  storm.  Our  North  Carolina  cam- 
paigns were  in  cold  weather ;  and  some  of  the  nights 
then  spent  we  thought  at  the  time  sufficiently  hard : 
but  none  of  them  compared  with  this.  Exercise  sup- 
pled our  joints  somewhat;  but  we  had  gained  very 
little  of  strength  or  rest  during  our  halt,  and  we  made 

12 


178  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

our  way  slowly  along  the  road  through  mud  deeper 
and  more  tenacious  than  it  had  been  at  midnight. 
After  a  mile  or  two  of  this,  we  were  glad  to  find  an- 
other resting-place, —  a  fence-corner,  much  like  that 
we  had  left ;  and  here  we  rested  until  it  began  to 
grow  light. 

"Taking  the  path  again,  we  came  before  long  to  a 
large  barnyard,  where  one  or  two  cows  stood  patiently 
waiting  for  the  morning  milking.  It  seemed  a  pity 
that  they  should  be  compelled  to  wait  longer  for  the 
lazy  farmer  whose  duty  it  was  to  attend  to  them.  The 
natural  kindness  of  our  dispositions  prompted  us  at 
once  to  relieve  them,  and  save  him  from  the  disagree- 
able task,  which  he  was  doubtless  postponing,  this 
rainy  morning,  later  than  usual.  With  these  benevo- 
lent motives,  we  began  to  climb  the  barnyard  fence. 
But  alas  for  our  hopes  of  warm  milk !  Just  at  that 
moment  the  farmer  vindicated  his  character  for  early 
rising  by  coming  in  sight,  dimly  visible  through  the 
mist,  from  behind  a  neighboring  building.  We  did 
not  wait  to  explain  our  intentions,  or  to  apologize  for 
the  injustice  we  had  done  him,  but  executed  a  prompt 
movement  to  the  rear." 

Finding  a  comfortable  resting-place  on  a  vine-shaded 
offset,  halfway  down  the  steep  side  of  a  dense-wooded 
ravine,  above  a  small  brook,  they  stopped,  exhausted 
after  their  wearisome  night,  to  wait  until  the  storm 
abated.  They  built  a  fire,  warmed  their  chilled  limbs, 
partially  dried  their  blanket  and  clothing,  and  at  the 


BRIDGELESS    STREAMS.  179 

brook  washed  their  mire-coated  stockings  and  shoes. 
Just  before  night,  the  storm,  which  had  slackened 
during  the  day,  resumed  its  force;  and  soon  the  rain 
poured  in  such  torrents  as  to  swell  the  brook  to  a 
sudden  freshet.  Again  they  were  drenched  to  the 
skin,  and  their  haversack  of  provisions  was  thoroughly 
soaked.  Later,  the  violence  of  the  storm  subsided  ;  and 
they  laid  themselves  down  for  the  sleep  which  they 
must  have,  rain  or  no  rain.  They  slept  ten  hours,  and 
woke  to  find  the  sun  shining  in  their  faces  through  the 
tree-tops,  and  a  clear  sky  overhead.  They  "  were  thor- 
oughly rested  and  in  good  condition  for  travel."  The 
storm  had  cost  them  just  one  day,  aside  from  the  delay 
growing  out  of  the  condition  of  the  roads  and  streams. 

Pressing  on,  they  were  seen  by  two  negro  boys,  who 
were  apparently  afraid  of  them,  and  hurried  off.  In 
the  afternoon,  as  they  were  concealed  near  a  dwelling 
they  could  not  pass  until  night,  a  private  coach  was 
driven  by,  then  a  country  wagon ;  and,  later,  a  drover 
with  cattle  went  along  the  road  near  them. 

At  night  they  took  in  preference  a  by-road  toward 
Baton  Rouge,  to  avoid  the  larger  towns  on  the  main 
route  northward ;  but  this  involved  the  dispensing 
with  bridges  across  streams.  One  stream  they  bridged 
with  delay  and  difficulty ;  a  second  was  not  to  be 
crossed  in  this  way. 

"In  vain  we  wearied  ourselves  tramping  up  and 
down  the  half-liquid  banks  above  and  below;  it  ran 
in  a  wide  turbid  flood  which  it  was  useless  to  think 


1 8O  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

of  bridging.  It  was  a  frosty  December  night;  the 
ground  was  beginning  to  stiffen  with  the  cold.  We 
hesitated.  Had  there  been  any  available  resting-place 
near  by,  I  fear  we  should  have  been  found  upon  the 
wrong  side  of  the  stream  when  morning  dawned;  but 
we  saw  none,  and  that  decided  us.  Making  the  neces- 
sary preparations,  with  much  shivering  we  plunged 
in.  After  all,  it  was  not  so  fearfully  cold,  nor  was  the 
water  deep,  save  in  a  couple  of  holes,  one  near  either 
bank.  More  than  one  trip  was  necessary  to  transport 
clothing,  blankets,  and  provisions;  but  it  was  soon 
over,  and  glad  enough  we  were  that  we  had  not  post- 
poned the  ugly  job  as  we  were  tempted  to.  We  were 
pretty  thoroughly  benumbed;  but  a  little  brandy  (the 
only  time  during  our  journey  we  had  occasion  to  use 
it)  assisted  exercise  in  restoring  the  circulation,  and  in 
half  an  hour  we  were  as  warm  as  ever.  We  traveled 
briskly  that  night,  and  had  accomplished  a  good  dis- 
tance when  we  turned  aside  into  the  pine  woods  on 
the  left,  built  for  ourselves  a  booth  of  pine  and  cedar 
boughs,  quite  a  luxurious  lodging-place,  and  slept  till 
morning." 

Passing  Baton  Rouge,  they  took  the  Pinckneyville 
Road,  and  later  turned  toward  Yorkville.  The  follow- 
ing night,  they  crossed  Turkey  Creek,  and  were  dis- 
posed to  attempt  the  passage  of  Broad  River  near 
Pinckneyville,  but,  becoming  confused  as  to  the  route 
in  the  darkness,  waited  until  morning.  The  weather 
grew  colder,  and  they  suffered  from  its  severity. 


DISCOVERED   AT   LAST.  l8l 

"  Our  morning  wakenings  were  the  most  cheerless 
moments  of  a  day's  experience.  We  woke,  without 
the  rest  which  came  only  after  exercise  had  brought 
us  warmth,  numb  and  shivering;  so  that  we  could 
hardly  roll  our  blankets  or  take  the  first  few  steps  upon 
our  journey.  There  was  not  a  night  during  our  trip 
in  which  we  did  not  suffer  from  cold.  This  morning 
(Sunday)  was  the  coldest  we  had  encountered." 

They  traveled  until  nearly  noon,  before  finding  just 
the  place  for  a  safe  rest.  Then  they  slept  several 
hours.  Resuming  their  journey  soon  after  dark,  they 
hoped  within  forty-eight  hours  to  be  beyond  the  limits 
of  South  Carolina,  and  in  a  region  of  comparative 
safety. 

"  We  had  been  walking  an  hour  or  two  along  an 
unfrequented  road,  when  a  negro  rose  apparently  from 
a  fence-corner,  and  followed  us  at  a  distance  of  a  few 
paces.  We  slackened  our  gait  to  allow  him  to  pass ; 
but  he  preserved  the  same  interval  whether  we  moved 
fast  or  slow.  While  we  were  still  in  doubt  as  to  the 
meaning  of  these  proceedings,  a  horseman  rode  up  in 
front,  making  his  appearance  so  suddenly,  that  even 
in  the  absence  of  our  unwelcome  attendant  we  should 
hardly  have  had  time  to  conceal  ourselves.  He  ad- 
dressed us  politely ;  and,  after  a  few  embarrassing 
questions  which  indicated  his  suspicion  of  us,  he  rode 
off  at  a  gallop  in  the  direction  whence  he  had  come. 
We  looked  at  each  other  in  dismay.  That  he  sus- 
pected us  and  would  soon  return  we  had  no  doubt; 


1 82  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

but  there  were  no  woods  at  hand;  and,  if  there  had 
been,  it  would  have  been  useless  to  enter  them  while 
dogged  by  our  persevering  follower.  We  were  now 
opposite  a  graveyard  of  some  size ;  and  it  was  evident 
from  surrounding  indications  that  we  had  come  directly 
upon  a  village  whose  existence  we  had  not  suspected. 

"  We  had  little  time  to  consider:  the  sound  of  clat- 
tering hoofs  came  down  the  road  behind  us,  and  our 
former  friend  rode  up  with  two  companions.  A  few 
more  questions  were  asked,  a  footman  coming  up 
meantime  to  join  the  party;  and  the  horsemen  rode 
on,  leaving  their  companion  to  walk  behind  us.  We 
knew  that  our  journey  was  at  an  end.  They  were 
waiting  for  us  at  the  gate  of  a  house  a  few  hundred 
yards  beyond;  reaching  which,  we  were  politely  in- 
vited to  walk  in  and  exhibit  our  papers,  with  the 
assurance  that  they  had  authority  for  the  request  they 
made.  '  Did  we  know  anything  of  some  Yankee 
officers  who  had  recently  escaped  from  Columbia  ? ' 
We  told  them  they  need  trouble  themselves  no  farther : 
we  were  the  men  for  whom  they  were  looking." 

The  recaptured  officers  were  taken  into  the  house, 
and  given  seats  before  the  fire.  They  found  that 
hounds  were  out  in  pursuit  of  them,  and  that  the  roads 
in  every  direction  beyond  were  closely  watched  and 
guarded. 

"  The  report  of  the  capture  of  Yankee  officers  spread 
like  wildfire,  and  men  gathered  in  for  a  look  at  the 
strange  sight,  until  the  room  was  nearly  filled.  It  was 


PRISONER-GUESTS.  1 8  3 

amusing  to  see  the  curiosity  manifested,  and  we  felt 
specially  complimented  by  a  remark  of  Mr.  McNeil's 
little  girl,  who  had  evidently  been  on  the  lookout  for 
horns  and  hoofs.  Finding  us  apparently  harmless, 
she  ventured  timidly  to  the  other  side  of  the  fireplace, 
and  finally,  after  some  coaxing,  came  across  and  stood 
shyly  by  my  side,  while  I  told  her  of  my  little  sister 
at  home,  and  astonished  her  with  a  small  coin,  the 
only  specie,  I  will  venture  to  say,  that  had  been  seen 
for  a  long  time  in  that  part  of  the  Confederacy.  She 
talked,  like  most  Southern  children,  an  unmitigated 
negro  dialect.  'What  sort  of  men  did  you  think 
Yankees  were?'  asked  I.  'I  didn't  tink,'  said  she, 
'  dey  was  dat  good-lookin'!' 

"The  conversation  turned  upon  politics;  and  the 
whole  question  of  the  war  was  discussed  with  perfect 
freedom  on  both  sides.  We  talked  with  the  utmost 
plainness,  and  were  listened  to  courteously,  though 
with  a  good  deal  of  surprise  and  some  incredulity.  In 
the  graveyard  of  this  little  hamlet,  too  small  to  occupy 
a  place  upon  the  map,  were  the  bodies  of  twenty-two 
Confederate  soldiers ;  and  there  was  hardly  a  man 
there  but  that  either  belonged  to  the  army  or  had  a 
son  or  brother  connected  with  it.  Mr.  McNeil,  our 
host, — for  we  were  treated  rather  as  guests  than  as 
prisoners, — was  an  elder  of  the  Methodist  Church. 
Few  of  those  who  talked  with  us  took  a  sanguine  view 
of  their  prospects ;  and  there  were  even  indications 
that  not  all  would  consider  failure  the  worst  of  calami- 


1 84  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

ties.  Most,  however,  were  thoroughly  in  earnest  for 
continued  resistance ;  nor,  believing  as  they  believed, 
should  I  have  felt  differently.  They  appreciated  our 
desire  for  freedom,  and  were  by  no  means  disposed  to 
blame  us  for  attempting  to  escape.  Even  our  captors, 
in  their  sympathy  for  us,  seemed  almost  to  regret  that 
their  duty  compelled  them  to  put  an  end  to  our  hopes 
of  regaining  liberty. 

"After  about  an  hour  of  conversation  came  the  wel- 
come invitation  to  walk  out  to  supper.  This  was 
served  in  a  small  room  upon  the  opposite  side  of  the 
entry,  warmed  only — since  there  was  neither  stove  nor 
fireplace — by  the  heat  of  the  smoking  dishes  which 
stood  upon  the  table.  A  most  attractive  sight  it  was 
to  us  after  months  of  prison  fare,  and  a  week  of  saw- 
dust. Beefsteak,  ham  and  eggs,  griddle-cakes,  hot  bis- 
cuit and  fresh  butter,  wheat-coffee,  etc.,  a  clean  white 
table-cloth,  and  a  servant  to  wait  upon  table,  seemed 
more  homelike  than  anything  we  had  seen  for  many 
a  day.  We  had  hardly  known  how  cold  and  hungry 
we  were  until  we  came  within  reach  of  warm  fire  and 
appetizing  food.  Mr.  McNeil's  table  looked  as  if  it 
were  spread  for  half  a  dozen  men ;  and  it  looked,  when 
we  left  it,  as  if  the  half-dozen  had  been  there. 

"Among  other  visitors  to  the  house  was  a  woman, 
who,  surveying  us  with  a  severe  countenance,  sharply 
inquired  of  Captain  Chamberlain,  '  what  kind  of  weather 
he  called  that  for  gathering  broom-straws  ?  '  Captain 
Chamberlain,  to  whom  the  drift  of  the  question  was 


AN    OPINION    ON    BROOM-STRAW.  185 

not  obvious,  mildly  and  with  some  wonderment  re- 
plied, that  it  appeared  to  him  somewhat  cold  weather 
for  any  branch  of  outdoor  industry.  With  a  manner 
indicative  of  the  utmost  animosity,  she  proceeded  to 
observe  that  'she  would  have  us  to  know  that  gather- 
ing broom-straw  was  something  she  never  had  done, 
and,  what  was  more,  never  would  do  ;  not  if  she  lived 
to  be  a  hundred  years  old,  she  wouldn't ! '  Against  an 
attack  so  vigorous  and  so  mysterious,  we  were  incapa- 
ble of  defense ;  and,  after  one  or  two  remarks  equally 
indignant  and  equally  incomprehensible,  our  assailant 
retired,  evidently  much  relieved  in  mind.  It  turned 
out  that  a  party  of  five,  to  which  we  were  supposed  to 
belong,  had  met  her  servant  in  the  field  gathering 
broom-straw,  and  had  taken  it  into  their  heads  to  send 
her  home,  with  a  message  to  her  mistress,  that,  if  she 
wanted  the  article,  she  might  come  and  collect  it  her- 
self. Their  sins  had  been  visited  upon  our  heads. 

"  We  were  assigned  quarters  for  sleeping  in  the  huge 
feather-bed  in  the  corner,  while  four  men  sat  up 
through  the  night  as  guard.  Our  couch  was  most 
luxurious,  and  I  was  asleep  before  my  head  had  been 
ten  minutes  on  the  pillow.  Captain  Chamberlain, 
whose  readiness  and  force  in  argument  had  much  im- 
pressed our  listeners,  and  had  been  repeatedly  com- 
plimented during  the  evening,  lay  awake  long  enough 
to  hear  some  interesting  remarks  upon  the  discussion, 
and  their  expression  of  wonder  that  men  in  our  cir- 
cumstances could  rest  as  quietly  as  we  seemed  to  be 


1 86  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

doing.  For  what  reason  I  do  not  know,  but  it  was 
not  for  some  time  after  our  capture,  even  after  our 
return  to  Columbia,  that  the  bitterness  of  disappoint- 
ment came  in  full  force  upon  us. 

"After  an  excellent  breakfast,  preparations  were 
made  to  take  us  to  Chesterville,  sixteen  miles  distant, 
the  nearest  place  upon  the  railroad.  We  were  between 
sixty  and  seventy  miles  from  Columbia,  though  we 
had  traveled,  probably,  about  one  hundred  to  reach 
the  place  of  our  capture.  We  were  accompanied  by 
a  guard  of  four  men;  so  that  we  made  quite  a  little 
cavalcade,  mounted,  some  upon  horses  and  some  upon 
mules.  For  security,  Captain  Chamberlain  and  my- 
self were  each  lashed  by  one  ankle  to  the  stirrup- 
leather, —  a  precaution  which  had  nearly  resulted 
seriously.  Captain  Chamberlain's  horse  taking  sud- 
den fright  simultaneously  with  another,  both  riders 
were  thrown.  I  thought  for  a  moment  that  it  was  all 
up  with  my  friend ;  but,  happily,  his  saddle-girth  had 
been  broken,  and  tied  up,  in  true  Southern  style,  with 
a  cotton  string.  This  gave  way  as  he  fell,  and  freed 
him,  saddle  and  all,  from  the  plunging  horse. 

"Not  caring  to  run  any  further  risk,  I  had  my 
saddle-girth  unbuckled,  and  met  the  mishap  I  might 
have  expected.  We  stopped  at  a  stream  for  a  drink 
of  water.  I  forgot  the  insecurity  of  my  seat,  and, 
leaning  forward  to  receive  a  cup  of  water,  threw  my 
weight  too  far  to  one  side.  The  saddle  slipped;  once 
displaced,  it  was  in  vain  that  I  attempted  to  regain 


CHESTERVILLE  JAIL.  1 87 

balance.  Slowly,  if  not  gracefully,  we  slid  off  to  the 
ground;  and  the  lashing  had  to  be  unloosed  before  I 
could  remount.  Our  route  led  through  a  thickly  set- 
tled region;  and  we  were  objects  of  no  little  curiosity 
to  those  who  saw  us  as  we  passed,  or  met  us  upon  the 
road." 

Reaching  Chesterville,  they  were  taken  to  the  jail, 
followed  by  a  constantly  increasing  crowd  of  towns- 
people. A  cell  was  assigned  them. 

"  It  was  exceedingly  filthy  and  repulsive  in  its  ap- 
pearance. Upon  the  floor  lay  a  tumbled  heap  of  rags, 
scraps  of  carpeting,  torn  bagging,  etc.,  which  had 
evidently  formed  the  bedding  of  the  last  inmate.  An 
old  pitcher  stood  in  one  corner.  Of  furniture,  there 
was  none  whatever.  The  walls  upon  three  sides  were 
of  heavy  planking,  well  whittled,  and  ornamented  with 
every  variety  of  illustrations  in  charcoal,  with  now  and 
then  a  long  tally  where  some  wretched  occupant  had 
kept  weary  account  of  the  days  of  his  imprisonment. 
The  fourth  side,  opposite  the  door,  was  composed 
entirely  of  iron  grating;  so  that  every  corner  of  the 
room  could  be  inspected  from  the  passage  which  ran 
around  each  tier  of  cells.  We  hoped  that  here  we 
should  at  least  have  refuge  from  the  not  uniformly 
courteous  curiosity  of  the  crowd  which  had  gathered 
around  us;  whose  persistent  gaze,  as  they  followed 
us  upstairs,  and  peeped  through  the  small  aperture  in 
the  door,  we  endeavored  to  avoid  by  stepping  out  of 
the  range  of  vision  which  it  afforded.  But  they  were 


188  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

not  to  be  balked  in  that  way,  and,  in  a  moment  more, 
were  rushing  into  the  passage-way,  outside  the  grating, 
with  looks  and  words  of  exultation  that  we  could 
no  longer  evade  them.  We  were  fairly  on  exhibition. 
There  they  stood,  and  gazed  through  the  bars,  as  at 
the  wild  animals  in  a  menagerie;  while  we  paced  up 
and  down  our  narrow  limits  with  a  restlessness  which 
did  not  impair  the  likeness.  The  unwillingness  we 
had  shown  to  gratify  them,  no  doubt  increased  their 
natural  good-will  toward  Yankees ;  and  questions  and 
comments  were  by  no  means  as  few  as  the  answers 
they  received.  At  length  the  jail  was  cleared,  and  we 
were  left  to  ourselves."  .  .  . 

A  better  room  was  assigned  them. 

"  McDonnell  the  jailer,  and  one  of  his  neighbors,  a 
physician,  spent  the  evening  with  us.  The  former 
was  confident  that,  if  he  could  have  a  few  days'  oppor- 
tunity for  discussion,  he  could  turn  us  from  the  error 
of  our  ways,  and  convince  us  of  the  justice  of  the  Con- 
federate cause.  We  expressed  some  doubt  on  the 
subject;  but  he  knew  there  was  no  question  about  it. 
Just  let  him  explain  the  cause  to  us,  and  we  couldn't 
help  seeing  that  we  were  all  wrong.  He  labored  with 
us  faithfully,  albeit  with  a  very  misty  comprehension 
of  the  theories  he  was  endeavoring  to  establish,  and  a 
very  slender  knowledge  of  the  facts  at  their  basis;  was 
in  no  whit  discouraged  by  our  flat  denial  of  his  prem- 
ises or  disproval  of  his  conclusions;  and  we  left  him, 
at  our  departure,  in  the  full  belief,  that,  if  he  could 


THE  JAILER'S  FAMILY.  189 

only  have  had  a  little  more  time,  he  should  infallibly 
have  made  sound  rebels  of  us. 

"Blankets  were  sent  to  us  in  the  course  of  the 
evening,  and  we  slept  very  comfortably  upon  the  floor 
before  the  fire.  We  had  seen  during  the  afternoon 
and  evening  most  of  the  members  of  McDonnell's 
family.  His  eldest  son,  just  below  conscript  age,  but 
expecting  to  be  drafted  as  soon  as  his  birthday  came, 
was  a  very  kind-hearted  fellow.  He  executed  com- 
missions in  town  for  us;  lent  us  books;  and,  in  every 
way,  exerted  himself  to  oblige  us.  He  was  entirely 
free  from  the  boisterous  bluster  so  apt  to  characterize 
those  of  his  class  and  age,  nor  did  we  hear  an  oath 
from  his  lips.  In  both  respects,  he  was  a  marked  con- 
trast to  his  little  brother  of  six  or  seven  years,  who, 
hardly  able  to  speak  plainly,  lisped  out  torrents  of  pro- 
fanity, and  was,  in  everything  but  size,  a  well-developed 
bully.  The  mother,  who  had  brought  up  the  former, 
died  in  the  latter's  infancy.  Miss  McDonnell,  a  young 
woman  of  seventeen  or  eighteen,  did  not  pay  us  the 
compliment  of  a  call  in  person,  but  sent  up  by  a  negro 
girl  a  piece  of  pine,  with  a  message,  rather  a  command 
than  a  request,  that  she  desired  some  crosses,  or  other 
specimens  of  carving, — an  art  at  which  she  evidently 
supposed  every  Yankee  an  expert  by  birth.  Regretting 
to  disappoint  a  lady,  we  sent  back  word  that  we  were 
not  mechanics. 

"There  was  a  little  girl  of  eight  or  nine  years,  who, 
when  she  heard  that  we  belonged  to  the  Northern 


I9O  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

army,  came  to  our  door  to  inquire,  with  touching 
anxiety,  if  we  knew  anything  of  her  brother, — one  of 
the  missing  at  the  battle  of  Malvern  Hill.  He  had 
been,  it  seemed,  among  those  whom  Magruder  sent 
to  that  desperate  charge  upon  the  batteries  manned 
by  the  First  Connecticut  Artillery, — repulsed  with  the 
most  terrible  slaughter  of  all  that  bloody  campaign. 
He  was  seen  lying  wounded  upon  the  ground  ;  beyond 
that,  all  inquiries  as  to  his  fate  had  been  in  vain.  .  .  . 

"I  called  McDonnell  good-natured,  and  so  he 
showed  himself  uniformly  toward  us ;  but  it  was  the 
good-nature  of  a  beast,  needing  only  provocation  to 
turn  it  into  ferocity.  He  was  telling  us  of  various 
attempts  to  escape  from  jail ;  among  others,  one  of  a 
negro,  who,  in  so  doing,  broke  or  otherwise  injured 
some  of  the  jail  property.  '  I  gin  that  nigger/  said  he, 
'  rather  a  light  floggin'.  Cut  him  up  some ;  but  he 
didn't  think  as  'twas  anyways  different  from  a  com- 
mon floggin'.  But  when  I  came  to  wash  him  down, 
instead  of  brine,  I  washed  him  down  with  red  pepper ; 
poured  it  right  on  to  the  raw,  good  and  strong.  Then 
he  knew  what  I  meant.  Pretty  nigh  killed  the  old 
nigger!'  This  story  he  related  without  the  slightest 
apparent  idea  that  it  was  otherwise  than  creditable  to 
him.  We  had  been  rather  amused  with  the  man 
hitherto ;  but  this  was  enough  for  us. 

"  During  the  next  day,  we  received  a  call  from  two 
or  three  gentlemen, — one  of  them  a  graduate  of  Prince- 
ton ;  another,  the  editor  of  the  Chesterville  Standard. 


IN   COLUMBIA   ONCE   MORE.  19 1 

They  were  curious,  they  said,  to  see  some  Northerners 
who  were  not  tired  of  the  war,  and  wished  to  learn 
something  of  the  state  of  public  sentiment  among  us. 
A  lively  discussion  followed,  conducted  with  the  same 
freedom  as  those  in  which  we  had  engaged  before. 
These,  however,  were  different  antagonists  from  our 
country  friends,  familiar  with  the  North  and  its  peo- 
ple, and  well  informed  upon  the  questions  at  issue. 
Bitter  almost  to  desperation  in  their  hostility  to  Govern- 
ment, men  of  influence  and  standing,  they  were  fair 
samples  of  the  class  which  keeps  South  Carolina  in 
her  present  position.  Our  Princeton  friend  became 
somewhat  excited  by  the  plainness  with  which  we  laid 
down  the  program  of  subjugation,  and  our  confidence 
in  its  success,  though  he  did  not  allow  himself  to  be 
led  into  discourtesy,  and  finally  left  the  room  in  ad- 
vance of  his  friends." 

In  the  afternoon,  Lieutenant  Belcher  of  the  Columbia 
Post-Guard  arrived  with  a  guard  to  escort  the  prisoners 
to  their  old  place  of  confinement.  He  bound  the 
elbows  of  both,  and  then  tied  them  together.  Thus 
secured,  they  journeyed  by  cars  to  Columbia,  and 
were  marched  from  the  depot  through  the  streets  of 
that  city. 

"Fifteen  or  twenty  minutes'  walk  brought  us  to 
familiar  places.  There  was  the  market-house,  at  which 
we  had  so  often  gazed  from  our  barred  windows ;  the 
street  through  which  we  had  passed  in  going  for 
water ;  then  the  old  jail,  upon  which  we  had  hoped 


THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

never  again  to  look.  We  entered  its  door,  and  our 
journeying  were  at  an  end.  We  were  ushered  into  a 
room  which  had  been  used  for  the  confinement  of  con- 
scripts, adjoining  that  which  we  had  previously  occu- 
pied. Here  we  were  unbound  for  the  first  time  since 
leaving  Chesterville,  and  left  to  ourselves.  Captain 
Senn  soon  called  upon  us.  He  was  in  a  state  of  con- 
siderable excitement.  Our  escape,  he  said,  had  nearly 
ruined  him;  and  he  accused  us  of  having  abused  the 
privileges  which  had  been  granted  us.  We  regretted 
having  caused  him  inconvenience ;  but  the  charge  we, 
of  course,  most  emphatically  repelled.  Calming  down, 
he  expressed  much  curiosity,  as  Lieutenant  Belcher 
had  before,  to  know  how  we  had  contrived  to  escape. 
He  had  counted  us  himself  the  evening  before ;  and 
how  we  could  have  left  the  building  between  that  time 
and  the  next  morning  he  could  not  imagine.  The 
confidence  with  which  he  spoke  of  our  presence  at  the 
evening  count,  when  we  were  so  snugly  ensconced  in 
the  cook-room,  was  amusing  enough ;  but  we  declined 
to  enter  into  any  explanations.  .  .  . 

"  We  entered  our  new  quarters  upon  December  23, 
having  been  absent  from  Columbia  a  little  more  than 
eight  days.  But  one  of  us  at  a  time  was  permitted  to 
pass  the  threshold ;  and  then  under  charge  of  an  armed 
guard,  who  was  responsible  for  us  until  we  were  again 
locked  up.  It  was  now  that  we  began  to  realize  the 
disappointment  of  our  failure.  Time  dragged  heavily: 
release  seemed  more  distant  than  ever  before.  Yet 


AGAIN  WITH  OLD  COMRADES.          193 

there  was  not  that  restless  torture  of  impatience  which 
had  before  taken  such  complete  possession  of  me. 
There  was  no  longer  an  untried  possibility  to  mock 
me  with  hope.  There  was  a  satisfaction  in  feeling  that 
I  had  done  my  utmost ;  and  I  could  bend  my  mind  to 
the  thought  of  patient  endurance,  as  it  was  impossible 
for  me  to  do  while  it  seemed  that  effort  might  yet 
accomplish  something.  .  .  .  On  the  last  day  of  the 
old  year  came  an  order  for  us  to  return  to  our  old 
quarters  to  make  room  for  Lieutenant -Commander 
Williams  and  Ensign  Porter  of  the  navy  [a  gallant 
young  officer  afterward  killed  in  the  assault  on  Fort 
Fisher],  consigned  to  close  confinement  in  irons  as 
hostages  for  the  treatment  of  certain  Confederate 
prisoners  in  the  hands  of  the  United  States  authorities. 
We  regretted  to  owe  our  advantage  to  their  mis- 
fortune; but,  fortunately  for  us,  this  arrangement  of 
rooms  was  the  only  one  practicable;  and,  after  eight 
days  of  seclusion,  we  rejoined  our  companions,  and 
entered  upon  the  year  1864  in  circumstances  almost 
precisely  the  same  as  those  of  the  period  preceding 
our  escape. 

"The  whole  affair,  though  it  resulted  in  failure,  was 
one  which  I  by  no  means  regret.  So  far  from  con- 
sidering the  attempt  rash  or  hopeless,  I  was,  as  you 
know,  on  the  point  of  repeating  it  a  few  days  since, 
and  with  excellent  prospects,  as  I  think,  of  success. 
It  broke  the  monotony  of  my  imprisonment  with  a 
week  of  stirring  excitement.  The  exhilaration  of 

13 


THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 


freedom  and  activity  amply  repaid  the  accompanying 
hardships;  and  I  have  an  experience  upon  which  I 
shall  always  look  back  with  pleasure  in  its  contrast  with 
the  dreary  months  which  preceded  and  followed  it." 

It  was  not  long  after  his  return  to  confinement  that 
Camp  received  a  large  box  of  home  comforts,  —  cloth- 
ing, books,  provisions,  cooking  utensils,  and  other 
things,  —  sent  to  him  immediately  after  the  chaplain's 
release.  Besides  all  that  was  apparent  to  the  eye,  the 
box  contained  letters,  maps,  a  compass,  and  other 
things  desirable  to  a  prisoner,  so  concealed  as  to 
escape  the  rigid  scrutiny  of  the  Confederate  officials. 
The  arrival  of  the  box  —  the  first  from  home,  and  so 
long  on  its  passage  that  it  had  been  almost  despaired 
of  —  was  quite  an  event  to  the  lonely  prisoner.  His 
words  of  grateful  joy  in  acknowledging  it  indicate 
more  clearly  by  contrast  the  gloom  and  sadness  of 
ordinary  prison  life  than  anything  he  wrote  of  his 
trials  and  discomforts. 

To  his  home  friends  he  said,  "  It  has  come  !  of 
course  I  mean  the  box,  —  and  what  a  box!  Like 
Blitz's  bottle,  everything  that  any  one  could  ask  for 
or  think  of  came  out  of  it,  and  a  thousand  things  be- 
side of  which  I  never  should  have  thought,  —  yet  not 
one  superfluous.  If  I  should  take  up  the  contents  in 
detail,  they  would  furnish  me  with  more  really  new 
subject-matter  than  all  that  I've  written  about  hitherto 
since  last  July:  its  arrival  is  the  great  event  of  the 
season.  Soberly,  you  can  hardly  imagine  the  impor- 


A    BOX    FROM    HOME.  195 

tance  which  such  an  affair  assumes  in  such  a  life  as 
this  we  lead  here,  so  utterly  monotonous  and  destitute 
of  interest.  And  that  box  would  have  been  no  trifle 
anywhere  to  any  one  away  from  home  and  friends. 
I  fussed  over  it  and  what  it  contained  for  two  entire 
days,  attending  to  hardly  anything  else,  and  only  began 
yesterday  to  settle  down  again  into  routine.  Indeed, 
for  a  little  while,  thoroughly  as  I  enjoyed  the  surprises 
of  each  new  and  the  associations  of  each  familiar 
article,  I  was  perversely  and  ungratefully  blue,  simply 
from  disconnecting  myself  so  entirely  in  thought  from 
prison  life,  and  then  finding  it  forced  back  upon  me." 

To  the  chaplain  he  added : 

" Oh !  this  cramped  page,  this  lifeless  ink-talk!  You 
know  what  I  would  say  and  what  I  would  do  if  I  were 
with  you.  God  grant  that  I  soon  may  be !  Then  the 
box,  so  full  of  evidence  of  your  thoughtful  kindness ! — 
who  but  you  would  ever  have  thought  of  one-half  the 
little  articles  which  make  no  great  figure  in  an  invoice, 
but  are  the  most  valuable  of  all,  because  they  bring 
dear  ones  at  the  first  glance  before  one's  very  eyes? 
Who  but  you  could  have  known  precisely  what  I 
wanted,  and  anticipated  requests  already  made,  but 
which  you  had  never  seen  ?  I  wish  we  could  look 
over  that  box  together.  I  want  to  talk  over  each 
article  of  fifty  with  you, — and  how  much  have  I  to  say 
besides  !  The  skill  shown  in  the  selection,  the  abun- 
dance of  every  desirable  thing,  and  the  absence  of 
every  superfluous  one,  so  as  to  make  the  whole  a 


196  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

complete  outfit  for  prison  housekeeping,  astonished 
the  rest,  and  surprised  even  me  who  knew  your  ways, 
and  expected  to  be  surprised. 

"  If  I  could  only  write, — only  speak! — but  I  never 
could  do  either." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

LIBBY  PRISON,  CAMP  PAROLE,  HOME. 

FTER  more  than  three  months  of  siege- 
work  on  Morris  Island,  the  Tenth  Regiment 
was  ordered  to  St.  Augustine,  Florida,  to 
enjoy  lighter  service  at  that  post,  for  a 
season.  The  chaplain  rejoined  it  there. 
It  was  a  satisfaction  to  Camp  to  know  that  the  regi- 
ment was  thus,  in  his  absence,  removed  from  the 
probabilities  of  immediate  battle.  This  point  was  one 
on  which  he  was  always  anxious. 

"The  one  addition  to  the  trials  of  imprisonment 
which  I  am  now  dreading,"  he  wrote  in  the  opening 
spring,  "  is  to  hear  that  the  regiment  has  gone  into 
active  service  without  me.  All  else  I  have  become  in 
a  measure  inured  to, — that  will  come  fresh  upon  me." 
He  could  not  rest  in  prison.  Time  was  too  precious 
in  his  estimation. 

"A  year  or  a  half-year,"  he  said,  "is  no  inconsider- 
able fraction  of  any  man's  life.  I  would  be  doing; 
and  I  am  not  even  preparing.  Were  my  future  so 

197 


Ip8  THE   KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

settled  that  I  could  study  with  reference  to  it,  my  time 
need  not  be  wholly  lost.  But  I  sadly  fear  that  neither 
German  nor  phonography  [both  of  which  he  was  study- 
ing in  prison]  will  ever  be  of  much  practical  benefit  to 
me.  Still,  I  have  never  regretted  for  one  instant  the 
course  I  have  chosen.  I  do  not  think  I  ever  shall;  but 
trust  to  see  by  and  by  how  all  has  been  for  the  best." 

Rumors  as  to  exchange  negotiations  were  very  tan- 
talizing. The  rebel  officials  declared  to  the  captured 
officers  their  desire  for  a  release  of  the  prisoners  on 
both  sides;  and  the  precise  reasons  for  delay  were 
never  clear  to  the  anxious  and  interested  captives, 
closely  as  they  watched  the  correspondence  of  the 
commissioners. 

"Matters  look  very  dark  to  us  just  now,"  wrote 
Camp.  "Of  course  we  would  die  here,  to  a  man, 
rather  than  have  Government  yield  any  point  involv- 
ing honor  or  good  faith ;  but,  with  no  more  than  our 
present  information,  it  is  impossible  to  understand 
why,  without  any  such  sacrifice,  arrangements  cannot 
be  made  which  would  set  us  at  liberty." 

When  the  matter  was  in  General  Butler's  hands, 
there  was  strong  hope  of  an  immediate  settlement. 

"We  have  made  up  our  minds  to  be  exchanged," 
Camp  wrote  at  that  time;  "and,  if  the  affair  does  fall 
through,  you  may  put  strychnine  for  thirty-one  in  the 
next  box  you  send." 

But  again  there  was  an  interruption  of  the  negotia- 
tions. 


ANOTHER    PLAN    OF    ESCAPE.  199 

"  This  suspense  is  very  trying,"  he  then  wrote. 
"  We  feel  like  the  three  egg-gatherers  of  the  Orkneys, 
whose  story  used  to  be  in  the  school-readers, — our 
rope  seems  to  be  parting  while  we  yet  swing  halfway 
down  the  precipice ;  and  it  is  a  desperate  chance 
whether  the  last  strand  holds  long  enough  to  bring  us 
to  the  top."  Many  a  poor  sufferer  dropped  from  the 
rope  into  the  dark  abyss  beneath;  and  many  more 
came  to  crave  death  as  an  alternative  of  prolonged 
suspense  and  suffering  in  captivity.  "If  capture  is  not 
to  be  followed  by  release,"  said  Camp  sadly,  "a 
prisoner  loses  little  by  death." 

Another  escape  was  contemplated.  The  plan  was 
made  by  the  navy  officers;  but  Adjutant  Camp  was  to 
be  one  of  those  profiting  by  it.  A  tunnel  was  dug 
from  under  the  hearth  in  the  navy-room,  beneath  the 
yard,  toward  the  cellar  of  a  neighboring  house,  whence 
unobserved  egress  might  with  safety  have  been  secured. 
The  tunnel  was  dug  at  the  rate  of  two  or  three  feet  a 
night,  the  removed  earth  being  spread  under  the  jail 
floor.  Steadily  the  work  progressed,  and  the  hearts 
of  weary  prisoners  beat  with  high  hope.  But,  when 
only  work  for  a  single  night  remained  unfinished,  the 
tunnel  was  discovered  ;  and  the  whole  plan  was  a 
failure.  Then  army  and  navy  officers  were  together 
removed  to  an  upper  story  of  the  jail,  and  their  privi- 
leges greatly  restricted.  Yet  other  plans  of  escape 
were  proposed,  and  would  doubtless  have  been  at- 
tempted by  Camp,  had  he  remained  longer  a  prisoner. 


2OO  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

The  efforts  of  those  having  influence  for  Camp's 
release  were  at  length  successful.  An  order  reached 
Columbia  about  the  middle  of  April  for  the  latter's 
removal  to  Richmond.  He  was  informed  of  it  by  the 
post-adjutant  as  he  came  in  one  morning  from  the 
yard  at  the  close  of  the  hour  of  exercise.  The  order 
did  not  specify  that  he  was  to  be  exchanged ;  but  he 
had  reason  to  hope  that  that  was  its  meaning,  and  his 
joyful  surprise  was  for  a  time  quite  bewildering.  He 
was  sent  forward  at  once  under  guard,  by  the  way  of 
Charlotte,  Weldon,  and  Petersburg,  enjoying  again  the 
long-forbidden  sight  of  open  country,  and  having 
ample  opportunities  of  observing  rebels  in  rebeldom, 
during  the  frequent  stops  by  the  way,  and  on  the 
crowded  cars. 

At  Petersburg,  connection  was  missed  with  the  Rich- 
mond train ;  and,  lest  he  should  lose  one  trip  of  the 
flag-of-truce  boat  by  the  delay,  he  proposed  to  hire  a 
carriage,  and  hurry  forward  over  the  turnpike  the 
twenty-three  remaining  miles.  The  guard  was  well 
pleased  with  this  arrangement,  as  it  would  expedite 
his  return  to  Columbia ;  but,  on  going  to  a  livery- 
stable,  they  found  three  hundred  dollars  to  be  the  cost 
of  a  hack  for  the  distance.  Even  accustomed  as  he 
was  to  Southern  prices,  that  charge  rather  took  Camp's 
breath  away,  as  he  said  afterward.  Several  hours  of 
unsuccessful  hunting  for  humbler  conveyances  satis- 
fied him  that,  if  he  should  at  length  succeed  in  finding 
any  team,  its  price  would  be  quite  beyond  his  means. 


IN    LIBBY    PRISON.  2OI 

So  he  went  with  his  guard  to  the  Bolingbroke  House 
to  wait  for  the  next  regular  train.  His  experience,  after 
reaching  Richmond,  he  thus  narrated  to  the  chaplain : 

"  I  was  despatched,  under  guard,  to  the  Libby, 
marching  at  the  head  of  a  squad  of  rebs  destined  to 
Castle  Thunder.  My  baggage,  which  had  undergone 
a  merely  nominal  examination  by  Lieutenant  Belcher,  at 
Columbia,  received  about  the  same  here;  the  sergeant 
observing  inquiringly,  that  he  'supposed  I  had  nothing 
contraband  there  ? '  Somewhat  doubtful  as  to  the 
character  of  my  hidden  journal,  I  replied,  that  I  didn't 
think  he'd  find  anything  of  that  kind  there, — and  he 
didn't. 

"A  ladder,  substituted  some  months  since  for  the 
stairs,  was  the  means  of  communication  with  the  upper 
regions.  Ascending  this,  I  was  at  once  surrounded  by 
inquirers  as  to  the  character  of  the  last  haul,  and  con- 
ducted at  once  to  the  room  where  most  of  the  Con- 
necticut officers  were  quartered.  You  can  imagine 
better  than  I  can  tell  how  strange  the  scene  appeared 
to  me.  You  remember  the  crowded  rooms,  the  bustle, 
the  confusion,  the  contrast,  in  every  point,  with  our  old 
Columbia  place  of  confinement. 

"After  I  had  been  introduced,  and  shown  the  curiosi- 
ties,— bone-work,  sketch  for  lithograph,  etc.,  I  was 
considered  naturalized,  and  fit  to  take  care  of  myself. 
.  .  .  Our  mess  took  two  meals  a  day,  as  in  Columbia, 
using  none  of  the  prison  rations,  except  occasionally 
a  little  meal,  living  exclusively  upon  the  contents  of 


2O2  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

boxes  from  home.  Before  I  left,  their  supplies  were 
wellnigh  exhausted;  and  we  were  eking  them  out 
with  the  prison  corn-bread,  regardless  of  the  mice, 
baked  whole,  in  it.  [Camp  actually  found  a  baked 
mouse  in  a  loaf  of  corn -bread  served  to  him  at  the 
Libby.]  After  the  first  few  days,  we  took  turns  in 
cooking.  I  won't  ask  odds  from  any  Biddy  in  the 
country  on  a  loaf  of  good  wheat  bread, — which  is,  I 
believe,  the  test  above  all  others  of  an  accomplished 
cook,  reasoning  a  fortiori. 

"  Boxes  were  issued  a  day  or  two  after  my  arrival. 
I  attended  in  the  lower  room,  thinking  it  just  possible 
that  mine  might  be  among  them.  A  blanket  was 
spread  on  the  floor,  and  the  contents  of  a  box  pitched 
into  it  (the  box  being  then  carried  away), — sugar, 
shirts,  apple-sauce,  boots,  coffee,  blacking,  peaches,  and 
stationery, — all  in  one  indiscriminate  pile.  Every- 
thing had  been  thoroughly  overhauled,  and  much 
stolen.  A  bag  would  be  torn  in  preference  to  unty- 
ing the  string  which  secured  its  mouth.  Cans  of  milk 
or  preserved  fruit  were  punched  to  ascertain  the  con- 
tents. ...  I  read  a  little,  played  chess  a  little,  sketched 
a  little,  cooked  a  little,  paced  the  lower  room  a  good 
deal.  .  .  . 

"  I  was  warned,  upon  my  arrival,  against  standing  at 
the  windows.  Any  one  who  showed  his  head  to  the 
guard  below  was  liable  to  be  shot.  But  the  exposure 
was  a  common  thing.  Now  and  then  some  particu- 
larly savage  guard  would  evidently  be  watching  his 


LAST   NIGHT    IN    PRISON.  2O3 

chance  for  a  shot  at  a  Yankee, — and  all  would  be 
careful, — tantalizing  him  now  and  then  with  a  capital 
opportunity  if  he  had  only  been  ready  for  it,  but  with 
a  prudent  regard  to  the  length  of  time  which  it  would 
take  him  to  come  to  an  aim. 

"  There  was  a  story  that  we  were  all  to  be  sent  to 
Georgia;  and  it  was  doubtful  whether  that  was  not 
preferable  to  the  starvation  which  would  certainly  be 
the  result  of  our  presence  at  Richmond  during  a  siege, 
however  short,  and  the  possibility  (much  greater  than 
some  thought  it)  of  being  blown  up,  rather  than  allowed 
to  fall  into  Union  hands.  Altogether  we  were  grow- 
ing daily  less  hopeful,  and,  about  the  end  of  April, 
had  reached  a  decided  shade  of  blue.  When,  on 
Friday  the  2Qth,  the  old  story  of  'boat  up  '  came,  with 
better  authority,  apparently,  than  usual,  I  only  thought 
that,  if  it  were  true,  it  was  in  so  far  encouraging  that 
we  might  receive  some  news.  So  I  went  quietly  to 
bed,  little  thinking  that  it  was  my  last  night  in  prison. 

"I  was  roused  from  a  doze  the  next  morning,  by 
hearing  a  list  of  names  which  was  being  read,  in  a  dis- 
tinct voice,  in  the  center  of  the  room.  All  the  possi- 
bilities flashed  upon  me  at  once.  I  sat  up  in  bed,  wide 
awake.  '  What  names  are  those  ? '  I  inquired.  '  Names 
of  those  who  are  going  in  this  boat,'  replied  Lieutenant 
Carpenter.  So  there  were  officers  going.  My  breath 
came  a  little  thick,  and  how  I  listened !  I  had  missed 
one  or  two  at  the  beginning,  but  no  matter;  he  was 
still  reading  names  of  field-officers.  Then  came  cap- 


2O4  THE   KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

tains, — a  dozen  or  so ;  lieutenants ;  then  an  adj  utant ; 
and  lieutenants  again.  If  there  had  been  more  than 
one  adjutant,  wouldn't  they  have  been  put  together? 
'  Lieutenant  H.  W.  Hamp ! '  A  thrill  ran  through  me. 
Did  he  mean  me?  It  must  be;  but  it  wouldn't  do 
for  me  to  allow  myself  to  think  so.  I  wouldn't  think 
so  until  I  had  asked  him. 

"As  he  read  the  last  name  and  turned  away,  I 
jumped  to  my  feet,  followed  him,  and  laid  my  hand 
upon  his  shoulder.  It  was  Dick  Turner,  the  inspector. 
He  turned,  somewhat  surprised,  apparently,  at  my  ap- 
pearance, as  well  he  might  be  :  my  toilet  had  not  been 
elaborate,  and  was  deficient  in  a  few  minor  articles, 
such  as  pants  and  stockings.  *  There  was  one  name/ 
said  I,  'which  I  am  not  sure  I  understood, — Hamp,  I 
think  you  called  it.'  He  opened  the  list:  my  eye  ran 
down  the  page  in  the  tenth  part  of  a  second.  There 
it  was, — a  little  too  much  flourish, — '  Camp,  lieutenant 
and  adjutant,'  but  no  room  for  any  doubt.  I  took  a 
good  breath.  By  and  by  he  found  it:  it  was  close  to 
the  bottom  of  the  page.  '  Camp  is  my  name/  said  I : 
'  is  not  that  what  it  is  meant  for  ?  '  '  That  your  name  ? 
Yes:  Camp, — that's  right.'  I  walked  back  with  a 
wonderful  feeling  pervading  me;  not  so  much  an  in- 
telligent and  definite  sense  of  joy  as  a  consciousness 
of  being  half-intoxicated,  with  a  necessity  of  putting 
myself  under  restraint  lest  I  should  do  something 
absurd.  It  was  the  inability  of  my  mind  instantly  to 
take  in  and  realize  the  significance  of  what  had  passed. 


A    START    FOR    HOME.  2O5 

"  I  had  been  told  that  the  names  of  those  who  went 
before  had  been  read  an  hour  or  two  before  they 
started ;  had  no  doubt  that  there  was  plenty  of  time 
before  me,  and  leisurely  slipping  on  pants,  stockings, 
and  shoes,  started  for  the  lower  east  room  to  wash 
before  roll-call.  Passing  the  stairs,  I  noticed  a  crowd 
around  them,  and  in  a  moment  more  heard  some  one 
say,  'They've  all  gone  down  now!'  If  I  were  to  be 
left!  You  can  imagine  that  grass  didn't  grow  under 
my  feet  before  I  stood  in  the  office,  overcoat  on,  and 
valise  in  hand, — the  latter  fortunately  already  packed. 
I  was  not  the  last,  after  all,  and  should  have  had  time 
to  make  my  toilet,  though  without  many  minutes  to 
spare. 

"Those  who  preceded  me,  and  they  were  nearly  all, 
were  drawn  up  in  line  in  the  lower  hall.  While  we 
stood  there,  another  officer  came  down.  The  name 
of  Stewart  was  on  the  list,  and  had  been  answered  to  : 
but  this  name  was  Stewart  as  well ;  was  not  he  the 
man  ?  How  number  one  looked  at  him  !  But  there 
had  been  no  mistake  this  time ;  and  number  two,  poor 
fellow!  sadly  went  back  up  the  stairs  to  his  prison.  It 
was  enough  to  make  one  shudder,  like  seeing  a  drown- 
ing man  clutch  at  the  plank  which  floats  your  head 
above  water,  miss  it,  and  sink. 

"The  parole  was  read  to  us,  not  to  serve  until 
'exchanged  under  the  cartel  of  July,  1862  ;  '  and  we 
signed  it  in  duplicate.  We  passed  through  a  door 
leading  to  the  outer  hall,  one  by  one;  each  answering 


2O6  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

affirmatively  the  question,  '  You  declare,  upon  your 
honor  as  an  officer  and  a  gentleman,  that  you  have  no 
letter  or  paper  from  any  person  ? '  and  there  was  no 
examination.  Forming  by  fours  in  the  street,  while 
the  guard  was  drawn  up  around  us,  we  waited  for 
some  time,  while  those  within  shouted  messages,  con- 
gratulations, and  farewells  to  us.  Every  window  in 
the  building  was  crowded  with  faces  pressed  close  to 
the  iron  bars.  It  was  a  sad  sight :  the  prison  looks 
far  more  terrible  and  prison-like  without  than  within, 
where,  as  the  Richmond  Examiner  said  one  day,  it 
resembles  the  interior  of  a  grocery-store  more  than 
anything  else. 

"  Marching  to  the  landing,  we  went  on  board  the 
Allison,  and,  after  some  delay,  started  down  the  river 
at  half-past  eight.  Three  hundred  sick  men  were  with 
us ;  and  they  were  an  awful  sight,  in  their  disease  and 
filth.  Stretched  upon  deck,  without  blanket  or  over- 
coat, some  looked  as  if  they  would  die  where  they  lay. 
There  were  piles  of  mattresses  lying  close  by;  but 
these  were  not  to  be  used:  they  were  for  the  rebel 
sick  upon  the  return  trip.  I  saw  them  spread  before 
I  left  the  boat  at  City  Point.  One  poor  fellow  was 
deranged,  and  had  to  be  caught  two  or  three  times  as 
he  wandered  about  the  boat,  and  returned  to  those 
who  were  caring  for  him. 

"It  was  half-past  twelve  when  we  reached  City 
Point,  and  saw  for  the  first  time  in  many  months  the 
Stars  and  Stripes,  as  they  floated  above  the  New  York, 


UNDER   THE   OLD    FLAG.  2O/ 

which  lay  there  at  anchor.  I  used  to  think  that 
enthusiasm  for  the  flag  was  principally  a  manufactured 
article,  and  indulged  a  philosophical  contempt  for 
those  who  allowed  a  material  object  to  occupy  the 
place  in  their  minds  which  should  be  filled  by  the 
abstract  principle.  But  I  shall  have  charity  hence- 
forth for  all  Fourth  of  July  orators,  knowing  myself 
better  than  I  did ;  and  honest  feeling,  even  if  it  flies 
the  spread  eagle  a  little  too  high  for  my  taste,  shall 
have  cheers  instead  of  sneers  from  me.  It  was  some 
two  hours  before  the  transfer  for  prisoners  was  accom- 
plished, and  I  stepped  upon  our  own  boat,  free.  You 
know  how  I  felt !  " 

At  the  very  time  when  Camp  was  hunting  after  a 
conveyance  from  Petersburg  to  Richmond,  his  regi- 
ment was  embarking  from  St.  Augustine  for  Virginia. 
While  he  was  in  the  Libby,  it  was  at  the  Gloucester 
Point  rendezvous  of  the  newly  formed  Army  of  the 
James.  When  he  reached  Fortress  Monroe  by  the 
flag-of-truce  boat  from  City  Point,  on  the  evening  of 
May  I,  he  was  met  by  Chaplain  Trumbull,  who  was 
waiting  his  arrival.  The  joy  of  that  meeting,  oh,  who 
can  tell! 

After  the  interview,  which  was  but  brief,  as  the  boat 
was  on  its  way  to  Annapolis,  Camp  wrote : 

"You  have  just  left  me,  and  I  am  still  in  a  maze, — 
whether  in  the  body  or  out  of  the  body  I  can  hardly 
tell.  So  joyful  and  so  astonishing  a  surprise !  For 
though  I  had  thought  of  your  being  in  Virginia,  as  a 


2O8  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

possibility,  I  supposed  you  were  still  in  St.  Augustine; 
and  nothing  under  heaven  could  have  seemed  farther 
beyond  the  range  of  hope  than  to  actually  see  you 
and  talk  with  you  to-night.  Oh,  if  we  could  have  a 
little  longer  time !  .  .  .  Thank  God  that  he  has 
granted  us  so  much  !  What  would  I  have  given,  three 
days  ago,  for  the  assurance  of  it!  and  the  spirit  of 
complaint,  which,  even  now,  I  can  hardly  repress,  is 
too  ungrateful.  I  am  a  thousand  times  happier  than 
I  deserve  to  be, — almost  as  happy  as  I  could  be.  My 
cup  is  full :  I  won't  ask  to  have  it  overflow." 

Two  days  later,  writing  from  Annapolis,  where  he 
was  delayed  nearly  a  week,  he  said : 

"I  have  enjoyed  your  letter  greatly:  it  is  yourself  a 
little  way  off,  it  is  true,  but  seen  through  clear  atmos- 
phere, and  not  the  smoked  glass  of  a  prison-page  toned 
down  to  pass  rebel  inspection.  But,  oh,  how  I  used 
to  prize  the  dimmer  pictures  in  the  midst  of  my  dark- 
ness ! 

"  I  am  just  beginning  to  realize  that  I  am  free.  Until 
within  a  few  hours,  the  jesting  cry  of '  Boat  up,  three 
hundred  officers  on  board/  would  send  the  same  thrill 
through  me  which  it  did  at  the  Libby.  I  have  still  a 
great  respect  for  enlisted  men  on  duty,  and  half  expect 
some  of  them  to  take  me  in  charge  as  I  pass  through 
the  streets.  My  hand  doesn't  rise  to  a  salute  spon- 
taneously :  it  requires  a  distinct  volition.  Did  you 
jump  at  once  back  to  your  old  position  ?  " 

Camp's  fear  then  was  that  his  regiment  would  be 


LONGING    FOR   SERVICE.  2CX) 

engaged  before  he  could  rejoin  it.  He  was  yet  only 
paroled,  and  he  longed  for  a  full  exchange.  "There 
is  a  captain  here,"  he  writes,  "  who  has  been  paroled, 
and  for  whom  General  Butler  is  going  to  arrange  with 
Judge  Ould  a  special  exchange.  I  wish  he'd  put  my 
name  on  the  same  paper.  Uncle  Sam  may  take  back 
my  leave  of  absence,  and  I'll  throw  in  the  half-pay, 
and  all  he  owes  me  too." 

The  Tenth  Regiment  left  Gloucester  Point,  May  4, 
ascended  the  James  with  General  Butler's  expedition, 
and  landed,  on  the  morning  of  the  6th,  at  Bermuda 
Hundred.  On  the  /th,  it  participated  in  the  first 
attack  on  the  Petersburg  and  Richmond  Railroad. 
The  news  of  this  fight  was  received  by  Camp  just  after 
he  reached  his  home  from  which  he  had  been  so  long 
and  sadly  separated.  Even  in  the  fulness  of  his  joy  at 
that  reunion,  he  could  not  repress  the  desire  to  be 
with  his  regiment  at  the  front;  and  his  affectionate 
anxiety  for  his  friend  manifested  itself  freely  in  his 
letters. 

"I  know  just  how  you  feel  about  exposure  in 
battle,"  he  wrote.  "  If  I  could  be  there,  we  would  go 
to  the  front  together ;  but  you  have  no  right  to  go 
without  me.  I  can't  have  you  do  it.  You  know  I 
wouldn't  ask  you  to  stay  back  one  inch  behind  the 
post  of  duty ;  but,  for  my  sake,  don't  go  one  inch  be- 
yond it.  Oh,  it  is  hard  to  think  of  you  in  danger 
which  I  must  not  share!" 


CHAPTER   X. 

CAMPAIGNING  WITH  THE  ARMY  OF  THE  JAMES. 

'ATE  in  the  evening  of  May  1 1,  Camp  heard 
indirectly  that  the  prisoners  paroled  prior 
to  April  30  were  declared  exchanged.  At 
once  he  telegraphed  to  a  friend  in  Wash- 
ington to  ascertain  the  truth  for  him. 
Learning,  early  the  next  morning,  the  report  to  be 
correct,  he  telegraphed  to  Annapolis  for  permission  to 
go  directly  to  his  regiment,  but  was  informed  that  he 
must  report  again  at  Camp  Parole.  But  five  days  of 
his  leave  had  yet  expired.  He  had  been  eighteen 
months  away  from  home,  nearly  ten  of  these  in  prison. 
Not  many,  under  such  circumstances,  would  have 
been  unwilling  to  avail  themselves  of  the  remaining 
fifteen  days  with  a  loved  household,  before  returning 
to  hard  service  in  the  field ;  but  with  Henry  Camp  the 
cause  of  country  was  the  cause  of  God,  and  for  that 
cause  he  was  willing  to  leave  father  and  mother,  and 
brother  and  sisters,  and  to  lose  his  life  for  its  sake. 
Not  stopping  even  for  the  completion  of  the  cloth- 

210 


THE    FRIENDS    REUNITED.  211 

ing  he  had  ordered  made,  nor  yet  for  the  packing  of  a 
valise;  wearing  his  clumsy  prison-shoes  of  rebel  make; 
and  taking  only  a  haversack  for  his  personal  baggage, 
trusting  to  share  blankets  and  whatever  else  was  re- 
quired with  his  friend  at  the  front, — he  was  ready  for 
a  start  in  an  hour  and  a  half  after  the  receipt  of  his 
telegram,  and  hurried  off,  on  Wednesday  night,  for 
New  York  and  Annapolis  ;  thence  to  Fortress  Monroe 
and  Bermuda  Hundred,  reaching  the  latter  point  on 
Sunday  evening,  May  15. 

His  regiment  had  left  camp  on  the  I2th,  with  Gen- 
eral Butler's  advance  to  the  rear  of  Drewry's  Bluff, 
and,  after  sharp  fighting  on  the  I3th  and  I4th,  was 
now  bivouacked  near  the  Richmond  and  Petersburg 
Railroad.  The  chaplain  had  left  the  regiment  that 
afternoon  to  visit  the  hospital,  and  to  write  from  camp 
to  friends  of  the  dead  and  wounded.  The  joy  of  his 
unexpected  meeting  with  his  friend,  on  reaching  the 
camp,  can  only  be  imagined.  The  reunited  friends 
sat  together  that  night  until  four  in  the  morning,  then 
slept  a  single  hour,  and  at  five  were  up,  making  ready 
to  rejoin  their  regiment. 

It  was  the  foggy  morning  of  May  16.  The  sharp 
firing  of  the  battle  at  the  extreme  right — the  position 
of  the  Eighteenth  Corps — was  heard  by  the  friends  as 
they  rode  out  of  camp;  but  they  did  not  suppose  it 
boded  trouble  to  the  Tenth  Corps  at  the  far  left.  As 
they  approached  the  Richmond  turnpike,  they  saw 
evidences  of  disaster.  Full  supply-trains  had  been 


212  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

turned  back;  shirks  and  stragglers  were  hurrying  to 
the  rear;  rumors  of  a  defeat  came  down,  at  first  vague, 
afterward  more  definite  and  positive.  The  friends  met 
an  officer  of  General  Heckman's  brigade,  an  old  ac- 
quaintance, and  from  him  learned  of  the  morning 
attack,  and  the  severe  losses  in  the  engagement  on  the 
right.  General  Heckman  and  Captain  Belger  were 
prisoners ;  Colonel  Lee  was  erroneously  reported 
killed,  and  Lieutenant-Colonel  Chambers  was  mortally 
wounded : — all  these  were  old  North  Carolina  fellow- 
officers.  Affairs  wore  indeed  a  gloomy  aspect.  The 
turnpike  was  thronged  with  hastily  retiring  troops, 
wounded  men,  rebel  prisoners,  ammunition  wagons, 
and  ambulances ;  and  confusion,  if  not  disorder,  pre- 
vailed. Many  of  those  first  met  were  evidently  much 
alarmed,  and  gave  an  exaggerated  report  of  the  dis- 
aster. 

Of  the  Tenth  Corps  it  was  not  easy  to  obtain  intel- 
ligence. Communication  with  it  had  been  temporarily 
severed,  and  the  story  was  in  many  mouths  that  it  had 
been  cut  off  and  captured, — albeit  the  friends  knew  it 
too  well  to  be  disturbed  by  that  report  That  it  had 
changed  position  was  confidently  asserted,  but  how  to 
find  it  was  a  troublesome  question.  An  officer  of  rank 
stated  that  it  had  moved  down  the  railroad,  and  was 
already  some  distance  in  the  rear.  That  assertion  was 
contradicted  by  another  officer,  five  minutes  later. 
Camp's  anxiety  to  reach  his  regiment  grew  greater 
and  more  intense  continually.  In  prison,  he  had  more 


BATTLE   OF    DREWRY's    BLUFF.  213 

than  once  expressed  the  wish  that  he  could  rejoin  it 
in  the  hour  of  battle;  and  now  it  seemed  that  he 
might  hope  to  do  so.  Hither  and  thither  the  friends 
hurried,  in  endeavors  to  learn  the  whereabouts  of  their 
corps.  Any  one  who  has  looked  for  a  missing  com- 
mand in  the  time  of  an  engagement,  and  no  one  else, 
will  understand  how  next  to  impossible  it  then  is  to 
secure  trustworthy  information  of  its  locality,  even 
from  those  who  would  be  supposed  to  know.  Again 
and  again  the  friends  were  warned  of  the  folly  of  an 
attempt  to  cross  to  the  extreme  left,  which  the  Tenth 
Corps  had  occupied,  and  told  that  their  capture  would 
be  inevitable,  if,  indeed,  they  escaped  with  their  lives. 
The  prospect  of  so  speedy  a  return  to  the  Libby  was 
certainly  not  enticing  to  the  just  released  prisoner; 
but  he  had  no  thought  of  slackening,  on  that  account, 
his  efforts  to  reach  his  regiment. 

Moving  up  the  road,  Camp  met,  coming  down,  Cap- 
tain Charles  T.  Stanton,  of  the  Twenty-first  Connecti- 
cut, of  Heckman's  brigade,  who  pulled  an  oar  with 
him  at  the  Worcester  regatta.  The  captain's  bleeding 
right  arm  was  in  an  extemporized  sling,  he  having 
been  wounded  in  the  morning's  fight.  As  he  had 
heard  that  Camp  died  in  a  rebel  prison,  he  was  as 
surprised  as  pleased  to  find  him  alive  and  well.  To 
make  sure  of  the  Tenth  Corps,  the  friends  sought 
Major-General  Butler,  and,  finding  him  with  some  diffi- 
culty, ascertained  that  General  Gillmore's  command 
was  still  in  position  at  the  left.  They  then  made  haste 


214  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

in  that  direction,  and,  as  they  approached  it,  met 
wounded  men  of  their  regiment  coming  to  the  rear. 
The  Tenth  had  been  hotly  engaged,  and  lost  heavily. 
It  was  still  at  the  far  front.  They  had  farther  difficulty 
in  finding  its  precise  •  location.  Sharp  musketry  firing 
was  heard  just  in  advance.  Other  wounded  men  com- 
ing back  said  it  was  again  engaged.  There  was  intense 
earnestness  in  Camp's  look  as  he  turned  to  his  friend, 
and  said,  in  tones  of  strongest  determination,  "We 
must  reach  the  regiment  at  once,  in  one  way  or 
another." 

Not  many  seconds  later,  as  the  two  urged  on  their 
horses,  the  head  of  the  regiment  came  in  view  over 
the  crest  of  a  hill  the  riders  were  ascending.  That 
Adjutant  Camp  was  recognized,  a  wild  shout  of  joy 
gave  proof.  As  he  drew  his  horse  to  the  roadside, 
the  regiment  filed  past,  and  each  company  successively 
greeted  him  with  hearty  hurrahs,  while  he  sat,  with 
cap  in  hand,  in  all  his  manly  beauty,  receiving  their 
gratulations  with  feelings  of  grateful  pride  that  atoned 
for  weary  months  of  waiting  and  suffering  in  prison. 
Not  alone  Colonel  Otis  gave  him  greeting,  but  Colonel 
(now  General)  Plaisted,  the  brigade  commander, 
hastened  forward  to  bid  him  welcome;  and  even 
General  Terry,  with  all  the  responsibility  of  the  battle 
on  him  in  that  imminent  hour  for  his  division,  swung 
his  hat  in  sympathy  with  the  cheering  regiment,  and 
spurred  forward  his  horse  to  take  the  returned  adju- 
tant by  the  hand,  and  express  his  cordial  satisfaction 


AGAIN    UNDER    FIRE.  215 

at  seeing  him  once  more  in  his  old  position.  It  was 
but  a  few  minutes  before  Camp  was  conveying  orders 
along  the  line  as  naturally  as  though  he  had  never 
been  absent,  while  the  bullets  of  the  enemy  whistled 
past  his  ears. 

"During  most  of  the  time  after  this,"  he  wrote,  "we 
acted  as  rear-guard — a  very  unpleasant  duty  upon  a 
retreat.  To  make  a  stand  merely  for  the  purpose  of 
delay;  to  take  positions  which  we  knew  we  could  not 
hold;  to  keep  the  pursuing  enemy  in  check  while 
others  made  good  their  escape — it  was  harassing  and 
dispiriting  work.  At  one  place,  forming  line  with 
several  other  regiments,  we  remained  several  hours 
without  being  attacked,  and  had  almost  concluded 
that  we  were  to  march  in  unmolested,  when  the  order 
came  for  us  to  move  forward,  and  hold  the  crest  of  a 
hill  some  distance  farther  up  the  road.  A  section  of 
a  battery  (two  pieces)  occupied  a  position  just  opposite 
our  right  flank.  We  had  stood  here  some  time  with 
no  sign  of  an  enemy,  when  suddenly  the  fierce  rush  of 
a  shell  tore  the  air  close  by  us.  A  better  shot  could 
hardly  have  been  made  in  a  hundred  trials;  but, 
strangely  enough,  no  one  seemed  to  be  hurt.  The 
artillerists  scattered  as  if  the  explosion  had  blown 
them  away  bodily,  and  it  seemed  for  a  minute  or  two 
as  if  the  guns  were  to  be  abandoned.  Their  com- 
mander rallied  his  men,  however;  but  even  then  the 
height  of  his  ambition  seemed  to  be  to  get  his  guns 
safely  away,  and  in  this  he  succeeded.  I  don't  believe 


2l6  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

the  same  movement  was  ever  executed  in  less  time 
than  it  took  those  fellows  to  have  their  section  in 
readiness,  and  then  tear  down  the  road  at  the  full 
speed  of  their  horses.  It  was  absolutely  ridiculous, 
and  our  men  stood  by  enjoying  and  commenting  in  a 
style  that  the  battery  commander  would  hardly  have 
considered  complimentary. 

"  From  the  same  quarter  as  before,  shell  followed 
shell  in  rapid  succession — some  passing  far  beyond 
our  line,  and  striking  in  the  track  of  the  flying  artillery; 
some  tearing  up  the  ground  before  us,  filling  the  air 
with  earth  and  dust;  some  exploding  just  above  our 
heads,  and  sending  the  ragged  iron  fragments  among 
us  in  every  direction.  Only  one  man,  however,  was 
hit,  and  his  wound  was  a  mere  contusion.  It  is  ner- 
vous work,  this  standing  target  for  shells.  You  can 
tell  a  second  or  two  in  advance  about  where  the  missile 
is  coming,  whether  high  or  low,  whether  upon  the 
right  or  left,  and  if  it  seems  to  be  just  about  in  a  line 
with  your  own  position,  and  about  four  feet,  say,  from 
the  ground,  there's  a  short  time  during  which  you  are 
much  interested  as  to  the  correctness  or  incorrectness 
of  your  estimate." 

That  night  found  all  of  General  Butler's  troops  who 
remained  of  the  expedition  safely  within  the  Bermuda 
Hundred  line  of  defenses. 

The  campaign  which  thus  commenced  to  Camp 
ended  to  him  only  with  his  death.  He  hardly  knew 
what  it  was  to  rest  again  while  he  lived.  Battles  and 


A   SUMMER   OF    BATTLES. 


skirmishes  alternated  with  tours  of  exciting  and  peril- 
ous picket-duty,  in  the  face  of  a  vigilant  and  deter- 
mined enemy.  Being  under  fire  was  the  soldiers'  nor- 
mal condition  in  the  Army  of  the  James  during  the 
summer  of  1864. 

When  the  Tenth  Corps  was  reorganized  at  Glouces- 
ter Point,  the  Tenth  Connecticut  was  brigaded  with 
the  Eleventh  Maine,  the  One-Hundredth  New  York, 
and  the  Twenty-fourth  Massachusetts,  under  Colonel 
H.  M.  Plaisted  of  the  Eleventh  Maine.  The  brigade 
was  the  third  of  General  Terry's  division.  The  Twenty- 
fourth  Massachusetts  and  the  Tenth  had  been  friends 
in  all  their  campaigning.  The  One-Hundredth  New 
York  had  been  brigaded  with  both  in  South  Carolina. 
The  Eleventh  Maine,  although  more  recently  with 
them,  soon  became  a  general  favorite,  and  that  and 
the  Tenth  were  almost  as  one  regiment. 

Camp's  letters  to  his  home  from  Bermuda  Hundred 
were  full  and  entertaining,  as  ever.  His  faithfulness 
as  a  correspondent  was  remarkable.  From  the  day 
he  entered  service  until  he  died,  his  home  letters  aver- 
aged above  three  full  pages  a  day.  These  letters  were 
written,  without  prefix  or  signature,  to  the  family  as  a 
whole,  and  formed  a  complete  record  of  his  entire 
army  and  prison  life.  Of  course,  much  of  his  writing 
was  by  the  wayside,  or  on  the  battle-field.  Seldom 
did  many  hours  pass  without  his  writing  something 
to  the  loved  ones.  The  extracts  freely  made  from 
these  familiar  letters,  written  exclusively  for  family 


2l8  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

eyes,  in  this  memorial,  show  the  style  and  substance 
of  his  correspondence. 

"I'm  half  afraid,"  he  wrote,  soon  after  his  return 
from  Drewry's  Bluff,  "that  my  anxiety  to  join  my 
regiment  may  have  made  me  seem  not  to  appreciate 
home;  but  you  know  me  better  than  that,  don't  you  ? 
I  can  hardly  recall  five  so  bright  days  in  my  life  as 
those  five  with  you.  I  trust  there  will  be  many  more 
like  them.  It  would  have  been  delightful  to  be  longer 
with  you ;  but  none  of  us  would  have  had  it  so  at  the 
cost  of  absence  from  the  place  of  duty." 

Tuesday  evening,  May  17,  Camp  addressed  his 
comrades  at  a  prayer-meeting,  by  the  blazing  firelight, 
in  the  open  air ;  and  again  his  voice  was  heard  by 
them  in  earnest  prayer.  A  few  hours  later,  he  was 
hurrying  with  them  toward  the  Petersburg  pike  for  a 
night  attack  on  the  moving  trains  of  General  Beaure- 
gard.  Those  who  were  near  him,  as  the  regiment  lay 
in  support  of  the  Eleventh  Maine,  will  not  forget  how, 
when  an  unexpected  shower  of  bullets  was  poured  in 
among  the  reclining  men,  causing  a  moment's  flutter, 
as  if  some  would  seek  shelter,  the  tones  of  his  clear, 
firm,  inspiring  voice,  saying,  "Steady,  men!  STEADY!" 
reassured  all  who  were  within  its  sound. 

"  It  is  a  strange  life,  this,"  he  wrote  a  few  days  later, 
"  that  we  lead  here, — widely  different  from  anything 
that  I  have  seen  before  in  army  service.  The  constant 
liability  to  attack,  and  frequent  skirmishes  on  the 
picket-line,  close  in  front  of  us,  make  us  indifferent  to 


ARTILLERY    FIRE    BY    NIGHT.  2 19 

what,  in  other  times,  and  at  other  places,  would  have 
caused  us  the  intensest  excitement.  Sharp  fighting  is 
going  on  while  I  write,  just  in  the  edge  of  the  woods 
beyond  the  works, —  so  neat  that  every  shot  fired 
comes  plainly  to  the  ear ;  and  the  cheers  of  our  men 
ring  loudly  through  the  air, — so  different  from  the 
senseless  falsetto  roar  with  which  the  rebels  charge,  that 
we  do  not  doubt  that  our  forces  are  attacking  the  rifle- 
pits  which  they  lost  a  few  hours  ago." 

Describing  a  night  attack  on  the  lines,  May  21, 
when,  as  on  many  another  occasion,  the  regiment  was 
hurried  from  its  camp  to  the  works,  he  said:  "The 
scene,  as  viewed  from  the  intrenchments  which  our 
regiment  immediately  manned,  was  a  very  striking 
one.  Artillery  fire  by  night  is  a  beautiful  sight.  The 
red  burst  of  flame  from  the  muzzle  of  each  gun  lights 
up  the  whole  landscape  like  a  flash  of  summer  light- 
ning; the  shell  describes  its  long  curve  through  the 
air,  leaving  behind  a  trail  of  sparks  from  the  burning 
fuse ;  and  its  explosion  brings  again  into  momentary 
sight,  sometimes  the  tree-tops  only,  above  which  it 
bursts,  or  sometimes,  if  well  aimed,  the  long,  low  line 
of  rebel  earthworks,  near  the  forest's  edge.  Then 
the  enemy's  reply, — the  distant  flash,  dim  in  com- 
parison with  the  startling  glare  of  the  shell  which 
explodes,  it  may  be,  close  at  hand,  shooting  long 
tongues  of  fire  in  all  directions  from  a  huge  nucleus 
of  intensest  brilliance.  Add  to  this  the  almost  inces- 
sant thunder  of  the  rapid  discharges,  the  whole  in  its 


v'  '<*:• 


220  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

contrast  with  the  previous  darkness  and  silence  of  a 
quiet  moonless  night,  and  you  have  that  which,  once 
seeing  and  hearing,  you  will  not  soon  forget." 

Two  nights  later,  the  Tenth  was  on  picket  when  an 
order  came  from  division  headquarters  for  scouts  to 
be  sent  out  to  ascertain  if  the  enemy  was  still  in  full 
force  in  front.  Camp  passed  along  the  line  conveying 
these  orders  from  Colonel  Otis  to  his  officers.  Hardly 
had  he  returned  to  the  reserve  when  sharp  firing  was 
heard  at  the  left.  Hurrying  thither  with  the  colonel, 
they  found  it  was  before  the  adjoining  brigade.  Again 
they  returned  to  their  starting-point. 

"Before  Henry  and  I  had  been  half  an  hour  at  the 
reserve,"  wrote  Camp,  "after  our  second  return  from 
the  advance,  came  the  alarm  of  an  attack,  just  as  it 
always  comes, — first  the  crack  of  one  or  two  rifles, 
startling  one  from  his  rest,  and  sounding  in  the  still- 
ness as  if  it  were  within  twenty  feet  of  him.  This 
comes  from  the  advanced  posts,  where  the  men  fire 
the  instant  they  discover  an  enemy,  and  then  fall  back; 
then  the  fire  of  the  whole  line, — not  a  solid  volley, 
such  as  one  hears  at  a  drill,  but  an  irregular  roll,  un- 
like anything  else  when  heard  close  at  hand,  but 
sounding  at  a  distance  so  much  like  the  clattering 
rumble  of  heavy  wagons  over  a  rough  road,  that  even 
a  practiced  ear  is  sometimes  deceived.  This  time,  the 
sounds  were  close  at  hand,  and  with  them  came  the 
whistle  of  bullets. 

"We  who  slept  at  the  reserve  were  quickly  upon 


A    PICKET   SKIRMISH.  221 

our  feet,  and  out  of  our  shelter.  One  company  of  our 
regiment  was  stationed  a  short  distance  up  the  road ; 
to  this  the  colonel  sent  me  with  orders  to  hold  itself 
in  readiness  for  an  immediate  move  to  any  part  of  the 
line  which  might  be  hardest  pressed.  Henry  and  I 
walked  toward  it  through  a  sharp  fire;  the  message 
was  delivered,  and  we  returned  with  a  most  uncom- 
fortable apprehension  all  the  way  that  we  might  be 
hit  in  the  back.  The  announcement  wouldn't  read 
well  in  the  newspapers,  however  necessary  the  move- 
ment of  which  it  was  the  result. 

"  Reaching  the  reserve,  there  was  nothing  more  to 
be  done  just  at  present  but  wait.  Colonel  Otis  must 
not  move  forward  to  the  line  lest  messages  sent  to  him 
at  his  post  should  fail  to  reach  him,  and  there  we  re- 
mained. It  was  a  far  more  dangerous  position  than 
at  the  front,  being  near  the  central  point  of  a  convex 
line  of  defenses;  so  that  we  had  a  cross-fire  upon  us 
within  short  range  of  the  rebel  works,  and  we  were 
standing  out  in  full  exposure  while  all  others  were 
sheltered  behind  defenses  of  one  sort  or  another.  I 
don't  know  why  it  is,  but  this  sort  of  danger  affects 
me  comparatively  little.  Shot  and  shell,  as  long  as  I 
know  that  I  am  not  more  than  others  their  special 
mark,  I  can  listen  to  with  a  good  deal  of  confidence 
that  none  of  them  mean  me;  but  the  knowledge  that 
a  sharpshooter  has  his  eye  upon  me ;  is  calculating 
the  correctness  of  his  aim,  since  that  last  bullet  missed 
its  mark ;  thinking  whether  he  had  better  take  me  in 


•>*"• 


222  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 


the  head  scientifically,  or  make  a  sure  thing  of  it  by 
aiming  a  little  lower  down, — this,  I  must  confess,  gives 
me  a  curious  sensation  in  the  pit  of  the  stomach,  and 
makes  me  cast,  now  and  then,  a  wistful  glance  to  the 
biggest  tree-trunk  near  by.  Of  course,  I  don't  go 
there;  but  I  have  a  good  deal  of  sympathy  with  the 
fellow  that  does,  after  all. 

"At  this  time,  however,  we  had  no  such  apprehen- 
sions. We  had  hearc],  incredulously  hitherto,  of  an 
explosive  bullet,  said  to  be  fired  by  the  enemy :  now, 
close  by  us,  nearer  than  the  crack  of  our  own  rifles, 
sounded,  every  now  and  then,  a  sharp  little  explosion, 
like  that  of  a  pistol.  We  were  inclined,  after  listening 
to  a  few  of  them,  to  believe  the  stories  we  had  heard, 
though  I  do  not  know  that  any  of  the  fragments  have 
been  picked  up.  As  Colonel  Otis,  Henry,  and  I  stood 
together,  the  bullets  flew  thick  and  fast;  and  we  had 
more  than  one  narrow  escape.  .  .  . 

"The  advance  of  the  rebels  was  repulsed,  Colonel 
Otis  bringing  our  reserve  company  into  action;  and, 
by  half-past  two  or  three  in  the  morning,  all  was  again 
quiet." 

Until  about  the  first  of  June,  there  was  little  inter- 
mission to  this  skirmishing  and  artillery  fighting.  Of 
one  of  his  earlier  visits  to  a  large  redoubt  at  the  left 
of  his  regimental  front,  commanded  by  Major  Trum- 
bull  [a  younger  brother  of  Chaplain  Trumbull]  of  the 
First  Connecticut  Artillery,  he  wrote: 

"  Major  Trumbull  invited  us  this  morning  to  the  top 


BERMUDA  HUNDRED  WORKS.          223 

of  the  parapet,  to  examine  the  rebel  works  with  greater 
ease.  The  interest  of  the  view  was  increased  by  his 
explanations.  'These  works  in  the  plain  just  beneath 
are  our  own  rifle-pits,  those  yonder  in  the  woods  are 
theirs.  Their  sharpshooters  post  themselves  in  the 
undergrowth  much  nearer.  I  don't  know  how  it  will 
be  to-day,  but  yesterday  no  officer  could  show  him- 
self here,  without  finding  himself  a  mark  immediately. 
You'll  see,  if  we  get  a  shot,  it  will  come  from  that 
thicket  on  the  left.  Between  where  we  stand  and  that 
traverse,  a  few  rods  distant,  eight  men  have  been  picked 
off  since  Sunday.'  But  the  discourteous  rebels  didn't 
seem  to  think  us  worth  their  notice;  and  we  came 
down  without  a  salute." 

"  I  think  we  have  been  more  under  fire  within  the 
past  ten  or  twelve  days,  than  in  all  our  previous  army 
life,"  Camp  wrote  about  the  same  time  with  the  above, 
— "  mercifully  protected,  both  of  us,  as  always  hitherto, 
and  as  I  trust  it  may  be  in  the  future,  until  we  reach 
home  together." 

It  would  seem  as  though  such  service  was  suf- 
ficiently active  to  satisfy  Camp's  utmost  craving  for 
usefulness ;  but  when  Turner's  division  of  the  Tenth 
Corps  accompanied  the  Eighteenth  Corps  across  the 
James  to  re-enforce  the  Army  of  the  Potomac,  and  the 
Bermuda  Hundred  front  was  for  a  few  days  a  little 
quieter,  he  was  again  disturbed  lest  he  should  be  left 
where  there  was  not  the  greatest  need  of  men  ;  and, 
while  listening  to  the  thunder  of  the  Cold  Harbor 


224  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

battles,  he  wrote  in  a  regretful  mood  which  he  never 
indulged  save  when  denied  the  privilege  of  doing  more 
for  the  cause  he  loved  : — 

"Again  through  the  day  boomed  the  heavy  guns 
far  to  the  northward;  and  now,  assured  that  the  fight 
had  really  reached  the  gates  of  Richmond,  we  listened 
anxiously,  and  waited  impatiently  as  we  still  wait  for 
news.  This  morning  brings  the  same  roar  to  our  ears, 
but  louder  and  clearer  than  before, — a  hopeful  indica- 
tion we  think  it.  As  I  stop  writing  to  listen,  it  seems 
to  have  ceased.  Oh  that  we  were  where  it  has  come 
from,  insteads  of  dozing  here,  hemmed  in  by  a  handful 
whom  Beau  regard  probably  didn't  think  worth  taking 
with  him  to  meet  Grant ! 

"You  can't  be  having  a  more  humdrum  life  than  we 
have  had  for  two  or  three  days  now.  Yet,  when  I  stop 
to  think,  we  should  have  called  just  such  days  as  these 
a  time  of  the  intensest  excitement  at  New-Berne,  or 
St.  Helena,  or  in  any  other  place  I  have  ever  been. 
We  have  been  shelled  in  our  intrenchments,  we  have 
picketed  within  pistol-shot  of  the  enemy,  we  have  had 
word  sent  that  they  were  massing  opposite  the  right, 
as  if  for  an  attack  in  force.  We  have  had  everything 
except  personal  participation  in  a  fight,  and  the  narrow 
escape  which  was  beginning  to  be  a  part  of  the  regular 
program  of  each  day." 

Picket  service  was  a  very  different  matter  at  Ber- 
muda Hundred  from  what  it  had  been  at  any  place 
before  occupied  by  the  Tenth.  At  New-Berne  and  St. 


LIFE   ON   THE    PICKET- LINE.  225 

Augustine  the  enemy  might  make  his  appearance  at 
any  time,  at  Seabrook  Island  he  was  in  sight  of  the 
outposts,  at  James  and  Morris  Islands  he  was  within 
gunshot;  but  at  Bermuda  Hundred  he  was  almost 
within  arm's  length, — within  speaking  distance  along 
the  entire  front.  As  a  portion  of  the  line  was  in  the 
pine  woods,  it  was  not  an  easy  thing  to  pass  from  post 
to  post  in  the  darkness  ;  and  a  few  paces  in  the  wrong 
direction  after  leaving  the  tree  of  one  vedette  in  search 
of  the  next  would  take  one  into  the  lines  of  the  enemy. 
As  much  of  the  posting  was  done  after  nightfall,  the 
duties  of  the  adjutant  in  conveying  orders  from  the 
colonel,  and  in  aiding  to  establish  the  line,  were  respon- 
sible and  trying.  More  than  one  officer  or  soldier  of 
this  side  or  the  other  strayed  from  his  path,  and  was 
taken  prisoner  on  that  perplexing  front;  and  Camp 
would  have  shrunk  far  more  from  the  thought  of  cap- 
tivity than  of  death. 

Sociability  between  opposing  pickets  was  a  fresh 
feature  of  outpost  life,  resulting  from  the  proximity  of 
the  two  lines.  Describing  a  walk  from  left  to  right 
along  the  picket-front,  before  batteries  No.  3  and  No.  4, 
Camp  wrote : 

"  Crossing  the  open  ground,  we  entered  the  woods 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  plain.  Here  our  lines  and 
theirs  converged,  so  that  the  posts  were  as  near  to  one 
another  as  across  the  front  of  our  house  yard.  We 
stopped  and  watched  those  opposite  us  for  a  few  min- 
utes; and  they  seemed  equally  interested  in  us.  Very 

15 


226  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

natural  they  looked  in  their  gray  jackets  and  pants, 
just  like  the  fellows  who  were  keeping  guard  over  me 
a  few  days  ago.  We  scrutinized  their  faces  to  see  if 
we  couldn't  recognize  some  of  our  old  acquaintances 
among  them ;  but  these  were  North  Carolina  men, — 
the  same,  some  of  them,  who  had  fought  us  at  Roanoke, 
New-Berne,  and  Kinston  :  so  they  said.  They  invited 
us  to  come  over  and  visit  them  :  they  had  tobacco, 
which  they  wanted  to  barter  for  what  we  could  give ; 
and  very  likely  we  might  have  accepted  the  invitation 
and  returned  in  safety  :  but  we  didn't  put  the  question 
to  test.  .  .  . 

"  The  opposing  pickets  have  been  on  excellent  terms 
for  the  past  few  days.  On  Monday,  just  before  the 
artillery  fire  commenced,  the  rebels  at  the  outposts 
warned  our  men,  '  Get  into  cover,  boys :  our  guns  are 
going  to  open  right  away  !  '  And  yesterday  they 
called  out  to  the  men  of  the  Massachusetts  Twenty- 
fourth,  that  they  had  an  ugly-tempered  fellow  on  as 
officer  of  the  day,  and  would  very  likely  be  ordered  to 
fire  at  any  Yankee  whom  they  could  see.  'But  the 
first  time,'  said  they,  'we'll  fire  high:  after  that  you 
must  look  out'  Good-natured  fellows,  weren't  they  ? 
not  such  as  you  would  care  to  kill  on  general  princi- 
ples,— only  for  special  reasons." 

The  night  of  June  15  found  the  Tenth  on  picket  at 
the  extreme  right,  next  the  James.  Soon  after  mid- 
night, word  came  to  the  reserve  that  the  enemy  had 
planted  cannon. so  as  to  sweep  the  main  road  across 


AN   EXCITING   NIGHT.  22/ 

which  ran  the  picket-line;  that  he  was  massing  troops 
as  for  an  attack  at  the  right;  and  that  he  had  advanced 
his  vedettes  as  if  to  make  room  for  an  assaulting 
column.  Major  Greeley,  being  in  command  of  the 
regiment  at  the  time,  went  immediately  to  the  front, 
and  Camp  accompanied  him.  That  there  was  unusual 
activity  on  the  part  of  the  enemy  there  could  not  be  a 
doubt.  The  rumble  of  moving  artillery  and  army 
wagons  was  distinctly  heard;  and  the  clatter  of  swift- 
riding  horses,  with  the  voices  of  officers  giving  orders, 
close  at  hand,  mingled  with  the  rattle  of  trains  over  the 
Petersburg  track  from  far  beyond.  But  whether  all 
these  movements  indicated  an  evacuation,  or  the  arrival 
of  re-enforcements  for  an  attack,  was  an  undecided  but 
interesting  question  to  the  waiting  listeners  at  the  ad- 
vanced rifle-pits.  It  was  impossible  to  decide  from 
the  sound  in  which  direction  the  teams  were  moving. 
Adjutant  Camp  was  sent  to  make  report  of  what 
was  heard  to  Colonel  Voris  of  the  Sixty-seventh  Ohio, 
division  officer  of  the  day.  The  latter  had  received 
similar  reports  from  all  along  the  line.  Orders  were 
given  for  the  entire  force  to  stand  to  arms  until  day- 
light. Just  in  the  gray  of  the  morning  came  orders 
for  the  vedette  line  to  be  re-enforced,  and  every  other 
man  of  it  pushed  forward  to  feel  the  enemy's  front. 
The  thin  skirmish-line  of  the  Tenth,  thus  formed, 
moved  out;  Major  Greeley,  Adjutant  Camp,  and  his 
friend  following  it  closely.  It  was  an  exciting  ad- 
vance. The  rumble  of  wheels  was  still  heard,  and  the 


228  THE   KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

voices  of  the  enemy  seemed  not  far  in  front.  There 
was  every  reason  to  expect  momentarily  a  checking 
fire.  They  passed  the  posts  where  the  rebel  vedettes 
had  stood  at  sundown.  They  approached,  unopposed, 
the  rifle-pits  over  which  the  heads  of  the  Johnnies  had 
peered  at  them  the  day  before.  The  sounds  which 
were  first  heard  had  not  yet  died  away ;  but  the  enemy 
made  no  attempt  to  stay  the  skirmishers'  progress. 
They  saw  before  them  the  line  of  strong  works  which 
had  so  long  kept  General  Butler's  forces  cooped  up  in 
the  peninsula ;  but  no  signs  of  life  appeared,  although 
voices  and  the  rumbling  wheels  were  distinct  as  at 
the  start.  The  abattis  was  torn  aside,  the  ditch  was 
leaped,  the  steep  sides  of  the  parapet  were  clam- 
bered ;  and,  with  no  little  satisfaction,  they  stood  on 
the  crown  of  the  formidable  intrenchments,  and,  look- 
ing right  and  left,  saw  that  they  were  in  unquestioned 
possession. 

As  yet  only  fifty  or  sixty  men — extended  along  a 
front  of  half  a  mile — had  moved  out  from  the  Tenth ; 
and  no  force  was  in  supporting  distance.  The  enemy 
had  not  all  deserted  the  Hewlett  Redoubt;  and  the 
handful  of  skirmishers  nearest  to  it  made  haste  along 
the  parapet  to  cut  off  the  retreat  of  those  still  there, 
and  succeeded  in  capturing  three  commissioned  officers 
and  nearly  thirty  enlisted  men. 

The  few  who  were  participants  in  that  morning 
advance  and  skirmish  on  the  bank  of  the  James  will 
not  soon  forget  the  excitement  of  its  progress,  or  the 


A   NEW  ADVANCE.  22Q 

satisfaction  of  its  success.  The  regiment  was  ordered 
up,  with  other  troops  at  the  left ;  and  soon  the  evacu- 
ated works  were  fully  occupied  by  a  competent  force, 
while  General  Terry  pushed  out  to  cut  once  more 
the  Petersburg  and  Richmond  Railroad.  The  Tenth, 
having  cleared  out  the  rifle-pits  on  its  new  front,  and 
taken  a  few  more  prisoners,  held  a  position  along  the 
works  near  the  river,  where  it  had  made  its  first  cap- 
tures in  the  morning. 

"  Upon  the  river-bank  stood  a  house,  once  the  resi- 
dence of  a  Dr.  Hewlett, — a  pleasant  place  still,  with  a 
magnificent  prospect  over  the  river,  which  winds  two 
hundred  feet  beneath.  From  its  roof,  the  spires  of 
Richmond  are  plainly  to  be  seen,  unless,  as  was  the 
case  now,  the  air  is  too  hazy  to  permit  it.  The  house 
has  been  riddled  with  shell  from  our  gunboats  and 
monitors,  which  have  made  it,  and  a  battery  close 
beside  it,  their  especial  target  for  weeks  past.  In  this 
battery,  forming  part  of  the  line  of  works,  was  planted 
the  largest  and  most  formidable  gun  which  the  rebels 
had  in  front  of  us, — a  hundred-pounder  Parrott,  which 
we  should  have  been  very  glad  to  be  able  to  silence. 

"  Near  this  house  we  sat  down  to  rest.  The  ice- 
house attached  to  it,  still  partially  filled,  furnished  us 
with  an  unaccustomed  luxury.  The  trees  shaded  a 
soft  green  turf,  and  we  thought  ourselves  well  off  in 
our  temporary  headquarters.  The  morning  wore 
away;  and,  except  an  occasional  shot  in  front,  all  was 
quiet.  We  strolled  about  the  place,  examining  the 


23O  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

effects  of  shot  and  shell.  One  of  the  latter,  a  fifteen- 
inch  plaything  from  a  monitor,  lay  unexploded  half-way 
down  the  steep  hillside.  Our  boys  amused  themselves 
with  rolling  it  to  the  bottom. 

"  Lying  down  upon  the  grass,  we  were  waiting  the 
arrival  of  dinner,  when  a  roar  like  that  of  a  dozen 
shrieking  locomotives  close  at  hand — a  shock  which 
made  the  earth  tremble  beneath  us ;  and  a  tremendous 
explosion,  all  nearly  simultaneous — startled  us,  not  to 
use  a  stronger  expression.  Looking  down  the  river, 
a  cloud  of  white  smoke,  drifting  away  from  the  turret 
of  a  monitor,  showed  us  what  it  meant.  A  hundred- 
pound  rifle-shell  had  struck  the  bank  just  below  us, 
and  exploded  there.  We  were  supposed  by  our  naval 
friends  to  be  some  of  the  rebels  to  whom  they  had 
been  devoting  their  attention  for  a  month  past.  While 
we  still  looked,  another  cloud  of  smoke  rolled  out  from 
a  second  port-hole.  We  jumped  to  cover,  or  threw 
ourselves  flat  upon  the  earth.  A  second  or  two,  and 
again  the  howl  and  explosion, — the  latter  not  far  from 
overhead ;  while  the  huge  fragments  of  a  two-hundred- 
and-fifty-pound  shell  from  a  fifteen-inch  smooth-bore 
flew  all  around  us, — striking  the  trees  close  by,  bury- 
ing themselves  in  the  earth,  or  whizzing  past  and  en- 
dangering those  who  stood  in  a  redoubt  some  two 
hundred  yards  distant,  —  Colonel  Otis  and  Captain 
Goodyear  among  them. 

"  This  would  never  do.  We  must  contrive  to  let 
them  know  that  we  were  friends.  White  handker- 


FIRED    AT    BY   FRIENDS.  23! 

chiefs  were  put  in  requisition,  though  it  was  doubtful 
how  clearly  they  would  be  visible  at  a  distance  of 
something  like  a  mile;  and,  while  the  rest  sought 
cover,  the  orderly- sergeant  of  Company  *H'  [now 
Lieutenant  Grinsell]  stood  upon  a  tall  gate-post,  wav- 
ing his  signal,  not  flinching  an  inch  when  the  second 
shell  burst  above  him  so  near  at  hand.  They  saw  the 
sign,  fired  no  more  shots,  and  presently  a  boat  put  off, 
a  white  flag  flying  at  her  bows,  and  pulled  toward  us ; 
the  officer  in  charge  probably  expecting  to  receive  the 
surrender  of  a  body  of  rebels.  He  must  have  been 
somewhat  disconcerted,  I  think,  when  near  enough  to 
distinguish  our  uniform,  but  took  it  coolly  enough 
when  we  met  him  at  the  landing,  sincerely  hoped  no 
one  had  been  hurt,  and  was  pleased  to  have  an  oppor- 
tunity to  examine  the  effects  of  their  fire.  We  com- 
plimented him  on  the  accuracy  of  his  shots,  and 
invited  him  to  dinner.  He  declined  the  invitation,  but 
made  us  quite  a  call;  filled  his  boat  with  ice,  and  then 
returned, — not  to  hear  the  last  of  it,  I  suspect,  though, 
for  some  time.  We  have  been  fired  at  by  our  own 
land-forces  often  enough  before;  but  this  monitor- 
shelling  is  a  new  variety,  and  throws  other  artillery 
fire  as  much  in  the  shade  as  that  does  musketry.  No 
wonder  that  the  rebels  find  gunboat  practice,  in  the 
rare  instances  where  they  are  exposed  to  it,  so  de- 
moralizing." 

The  enemy's  troops  had  been  withdrawn  from  the 
Bermuda  Hundred  front  to  hurriedly  re-enforce  Peters- 


232  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

burg  against  Grant's  attack.  Lee  was  hastening  from 
Richmond  to  fill  the  gap.  General  Butler  deciding 
not  to  hold  the  new  position,  acquired  at  so  little  risk, 
the  rebel  works  were  evacuated  at  sundown  on  Gene- 
ral Terry's  return  from  the  railroad.  The  Tenth  was 
the  last  regiment  to  fall  back,  being  instructed  to  hold 
its  position  "at  all  hazards,"  while  the  other  troops 
withdrew  to  their  lines  of  the  morning.  The  situation 
was  a  critical  one ;  for  the  enemy  was  coming  down 
in  strong  force,  charging  the  no  longer  defended  lines 
with  hideous  yells,  and  being  actually  over  the  parapet 
at  the  left  of  the  Tenth,  while  severely  pressing  its  front, 
before  word  came  for  the  latter  to  retire.  Yet  so  firmly 
did  the  Tenth  hold  its  ground,  and  so  steady  and  accu- 
rate was  the  fire  of  its  skirmishers,  that  the  advance 
of  the  enemy  was  checked,  and  the  regiment  finally 
withdrew,  not  only  in  good  order,  but  unopposed. 
The  enemy  quickly  followed  up  the  retiring  troops, 
and  attacked  vigorously  along  the  line,  but  were  re- 
pulsed with  ease. 

The  next  two  days  there  was  almost  incessant  skir- 
mishing on  the  Bermuda  Hundred  front.  The  closing 
page  of  a  letter  from  Camp,  written  on  the  afternoon 
of  the  1 8th  of  June,  illustrates  the  manner  in  which 
his  correspondence  was  persevered  in  when  the  only 
leisure  to  be  found  was  in  the  intervals  of  active  move- 
ments at  the  extreme  front. 

''It's  impossible  to  tell,  when  one  commences  a 
sentence,  when  and  where  he  will  finish  it.  We  are 


THE    TIME    OF    "  HUMMING-BIRDS.  233 

lying  here  now  as  a  support  to  the  right  of  our  division 
picket-line,  which  is  in  danger  of  being  flanked ;  the 
center  having  been  driven  in.  All  had  been  quiet  for 
some  time,  until,  a  moment  or  two  ago,  just  as  I  was 
taking  out  the  portfolio,  a  bullet  or  two  came  whizzing 
past.  '  Ah ! '  said  Henry,  '  the  time  of  the  singing  of 
birds  has  come.'  '  Humming-birds '  our  boys  call 
these  rifle-bullets.  There  strikes  another  now,  a  little 
to  my  left,  near  where  Henry  stands  talking  with  a 
group  of  men.  I  doubt  whether  I'm  allowed  to  write 
many  minutes  more.  Artillery  is  pounding  away 
heavily  toward  the  left.  Henry  returns  to  sit  by  me 
and  write.  That  bullet  was  meant  for  him, — a  man 
who  stood  by  him  saw  whence  it  came.  Their  sharp- 
shooters are  evidently  on  the  lookout  for  us.  I  hope 
we  shall  stay  where  we  are  long  enough  for  me  to 
finish  my  letter.  They  are  opening  upon  us  now  with 
spherical  case, — pretty  good  shots  too.  Our  officers 
and  a  few  of  the  men  sit  upon  the  ground  too  far  in 
the  rear  of  the  rifle-pits  to  be  sheltered  at  all  by  them. 
A  shot  struck  just  now  within  a  yard  or  two  of  our 
boys,  a  couple  of  rods  to  the  right  of  where  we  are 
sitting;  they  seem  to  have  our  range  exactly.  I  must 
close  this  and  send  it." 

The  severe  shelling  which  followed  that  letter- 
writing  he  described  a  few  days  later : 

"At  half-past  three  Saturday  morning,  we  were 
ordered  out  to  support  the  Eleventh  Maine,  which 
held  the  right  of  the  picket-line.  We  occupied  a  rifle- 


234  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

pit  a  few  rods  in  their  rear,  and,  having  taken  position, 
lay  down  for  another  nap.  The  morning,  after  our 
waking  and  breakfast,  was  chiefly  occupied  in  writing; 
a  shell  from  the  rebel  works  every  few  minutes  giving 
me  subject-matter  for  an  occasional  parenthesis.  All 
these  passed  harmless  by;  and  we  wrote  on,  or  read 
the  papers  just  brought  up,  paying  them  no  attention, 
beyond  now  and  then  an  involuntary  start,  when  one 
came  lower  and  nearer  than  usual.  It  seemed  as  if 
the  rebel  gunners  now  for  the  first  time  saw  the  mark 
to  be  aimed  at.  Of  this  we  received  intimation  by  the 
bursting  of  a  shell  two  or  three  rods  to  the  left  and 
rear  of  where  we  sat ;  the  fragments  cutting  twigs  and 
branches  from  the  trees  above  us,  and  the  bullets  with 
which  it  had  been  filled  (it  was  a  spherical  case)  strik- 
ing the  ground  in  fifty  places  around. 

"Shell  after  shell  now  came  in  rapid  succession, and 
with  the  most  wonderful  accuracy  of  direction  and 
length  of  fuse.  Henry  and  I  had  thought  the  first  a 
chance  shot,  and  had  not  moved  from  our  seat  under 
a  tree,  a  little  in  the  rear  of  the  rifle-pit.  But  as  one 
after  another,  at  intervals  of  a  few  seconds  only,  ex- 
ploded nearly  in  the  same  place,  we  made  up  our 
minds  that  even  the  slight  protection  of  the  open  rifle- 
pit  was  not  to  be  disregarded,  and  took  position  in  it 
by  the  side  of  Major  Greeley,  who  was  in  command 
of  the  regiment.  Every  man  was  speedily  ensconced 
in  the  same  cover.  As  Henry  rose  from  the  ground 
to  enter  it,  a  ragged  piece  of  iron  struck  within  six 


A   SEVERE   SHELLING.  235 

inches  of  him :  he  picked  it  up,  hot  with  the  flame  of 
the  powder,  and  brought  it  with  him. 

"  Leaning  our  backs  against  the  side  of  the  trench 
in  which  we  sat,  we  thought  our  danger  to  be  only 
about  one-half  that  of  a  position  upon  the  level  ground. 
Owing  to  the  velocity  of  the  exploding  shell,  few  of 
its  fragments  fall  behind  or  even  under  it.  Most  of 
them  are  thrown  in  front  of  the  point  at  which  it 
bursts.  Most,  I  say ;  but,  after  all,  it  is  about  as  un- 
pleasant to  be  hit  by  one  of  a  dozen,  as  by  one  of  two 
dozen  missiles.  So  we  looked  up,  and  wondered — as 
each  fierce  explosion  smote  our  ears  to  positive  pain, 
filling  the  air  with  powder-smoke,  and  hiding  for  a 
moment  all  that  was  before  our  eyes — whether  this 
was  the  one  meant  for  us. 

"  The  air  was-  full  of  flying  iron  and  lead,  pattering 
in  a  shower  upon  the  ground,  rattling  like  hail  among 
the  trees,  cutting  off  branches  and  twigs,  throwing 
down  the  piled-up  earth  of  our  shelter,  and  dashing 
up  little  clouds  of  dust  above,  before,  behind,  on  all 
sides  at  once.  Right  among  us  in  the  rifle-pit  they 
struck :  the  wonder  seemed  that  any  escaped,  yet  for 
a  time  no  one  was  touched.  A  tree  grew  above  our 
heads.  Among  its  branches,  perhaps  thirty  feet  from 
the  ground,  a  shell  burst,  tearing  them  to  pieces,  cover- 
ing us  with  the  falling  shreds  of  wood,  bark,  and  leaves; 
but  the  shower  was  a  harmless  one.  Just  before  where 
we  sat  rose  a  much  larger  tree,  a  pine.  Mingled  with 
the  explosion  of  a  shell  came  the  sound  of  a  sharper 


236  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

though  less  stunning  crash.  '  Look  out,  boys ! '  called 
some  one;  and  down  thundered  the  tree,  its  trunk 
shivered, — falling  directly  toward  us,  but  a  yard  or 
two  from  our  position. 

"The  fire  came  from  several  directions.  One  gun 
in  our  front  seemed  never  to  fail.  Every  shell  which 
it  sent  burst  over  some  part  of  our  line  as  accurately 
as  if  it  had  been  thrown  like  a  hand-grenade.  Another, 
far  to  our  right,  flung  its  shot  a  few  feet  above  our 
heads ;  and  on  they  went,  crashing  along  through  the 
woods,  with  swift  succession  of  sharp  reports  mingling 
with  their  shrieks  as  tree-trunks  snapped  like  pipe- 
stems,  their  tops  whirled  in  air,  the  path  beneath 
marked  with  shivered  boughs  and  limbs  rent  from 
their  places  of  growth.  Then  came  the  explosion  far 
in  the  rear,  where  were  posted  our  reserves. 

"This  shelling  lasted  for  more  than  an  hour.  Nar- 
row escapes  were,  of  course,  the  rule  rather  than  the 
exception;  still,  as  yet  no  one  had  been  so  much  as 
grazed.  At  length  there  was  a  lull, — a  little  time  of 
utter  quiet;  then  came  that  for  which  all  this  had  been 
only  preparation.  A  wild  yell  sounded  through  the 
woods  upon  our  left,  and  in  a  moment  more  there 
mingled  with  it  the  crack  of  a  thousand  rifles.  Yell 
upon  yell,  volley  upon  volley,  nearer  and  nearer  every 
second.  'Make  ready,  boys!  '  called  Major  Greeley; 
and  at  once  every  man  who  had  not  already  risen  was 
upon  his  feet.  Just  then  came  one  more  shell, — 
almost  the  last  which  was  fired :  it  skimmed  low, 


AN   ATTACK    REPULSED.  237 

struck  the  ground  a  few  rods  in  front  of  us,  bounded 
just  high  enough  to  clear  the  ridge  of  earth  before  the 
rifle-pit,  and  strike  a  man  who  had  just  risen  in  obedi- 
ence to  the  order.  Poor  fellow!  he  never  knew  that 
he  was  hit.  One  shoulder,  half  his  neck,  and  the 
lower  part  of  his  head,  were  carried  sheer  away.  He 
dropped  without  a  groan  or  a  quiver.  Hardly  any 
one  knew  it.  Henry  and  I  did  not,  though  we  were 
but  a  few  yards  from  him. 

"  Each  man  was  leaning  over  the  breastwork,  his 
rifle  at  his  shoulder,  his  eye  fixed  on  the  openings  of 
the  wood  in  front,  among  whose  trees  we  expected 
every  moment  to  see  the  gray  coats  of  an  advancing 
line.  I  haven't  known  since  I  entered  the  army  a 
moment  of  more  intense  excitement.  Nor  was  it  over 
in  a  moment.  Bullets  were  flying  fast  above  us,  but 
no  enemy  made  his  appearance.  On  our  left  the  fight 
was  raging  fiercely;  no  cessation  of  the  rapid  volleys, 
no  intermission  of  the  rebel  yells,  which,  still  approach- 
ing, seemed  to  be  just  upon  our  flank  and  close  at 
hand,  indicating  that  our  line  had  been  broken  but  a 
few  hundred  yards  below  us.  .  .  . 

"The  fight  did  not  reach  us.  Upon  our  left,  it 
swayed  back  and  forth, —  Colonel  Otis  commanding 
upon  our  side  as  general  officer  of  the  day.  The 
enemy,  in  their  first  rush,  gained  possession  of  part  of 
our  line  of  rifle-pits ;  but  were  afterward  driven  back 
with  loss  of  prisoners,  and,  at  the  close,  we  held  our 
old  position.  Their  sharpshooters  afterward  annoyed 


238  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

us  somewhat, — several  shots  being  fired  at  Henry  as 
he  stood  talking  with  the  men,  several  at  Major  Greeley 
and  myself;  but  no  one  was  hit.  Henry  buried  the 
poor  fellow  who  was  killed  by  the  shell  not  far  from 
where  he  fell;  and  we  returned  about  dark  to  camp. 
At  midnight,  we  were  ordered  out  again,  and  remained 
through  the  Sabbath, — a  quiet  day.  Returning  once 
more  to  camp  at  evening,  we  saw  the  smoke  of  a  rebel 
ram,  which  had  come  down  the  river,  now  returning 
under  the  fire  of  our  gunboats.  A  prayer-meeting  in 
camp  closed  the  day  pleasantly." 

In  modest  underestimate  of  his  power  in  graphic 
delineation  of  these  thrilling  scenes  of  army  life,  he 
said: 

"  I  have  described  the  same  thing — or  what  must 
seem  so  to  you — in  the  same  words  so  often,  that  I 
am  heartily  tired  of  the  story  myself,  and  mean  to  quit 
grinding  my  single-tune  hand-organ.  If  I  could  bring 
out  the  distinctive  features  which  individualize  similar 
yet  widely  different  scenes,  and  make  each  one  fresh 
in  its  exciting  interest  to  us  who  have  part  in  it,  it 
would  be  worth  while  to  attempt  a  new  sketch  for  each ; 
but  all  that  is  left  in  my  power  now  is,  in  transparent- 
slate  style,  to  trace  over  again  my  old  lines  with  a 
pencil  that  grows  duller  each  time  I  repeat  the  experi- 
ment." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

NORTH  OF  THE  JAMES. 

[N  the  afternoon  of  June  20,  the  Tenth  Con- 
necticut, as  a  portion  of  Brigadier-General 
R.  S.  Foster's  new  command,  marched 
down  from  the  Bermuda  Hundred  front  to 
Jones's  Landing,  and  thence  crossed  the 
James,  during  the  evening,  in  the  boats  on  which  the 
pontoon  was  subsequently  laid.  It  was  this  move- 
ment which  gave  General  Grant  possession  of  Deep 
Bottom, —  his  base  thenceforward  of  all  operations 
north  of  the  James.  The  enemy  occupied  the  position 
at  that  time,  and  on  Colonel  Otis  devolved  the  delicate 
and  difficult  task  of  establishing,  between  midnight 
and  morning,  a  safe  picket-line  in  a  portion  of  country 
he  had  never  visited  before,  pressing  back  the  rebel 
pickets  as  he  posted  his  own.  Adjutant  Camp  had 
his  full  share  of  duty,  aiding  in  this  important  work. 

Again  there  were  weeks  of  picketing  in  close  prox- 
imity to  the  enemy,  with  occasional  skirmishes  and 
annoyance  from  artillery  fire.  The  pickets  were  as 

239 


24O  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

sociable  as  in  front  of  Bermuda  Hundred.  On  one 
occasion,  some  South-Carolinians  inquired  for  Adjutant 
Camp  and  Chaplain  Trumbull,  whom  they  had  guarded 
in  the  Columbia  jail,  and  sent  them  kindly  greeting. 
One  morning  the  rebels  brought  down  a  light  battery 
to  Strawberry  Plains  and  drove  the  gunboats  out  of 
range,  killing  and  wounding  quite  a  number  on  one  of 
the  double-enders ;  then  threw  shot  and  shell  across 
Four  Mile  Creek  at  General  Foster's  headquarters  and 
the  camp  of  the  Tenth,  exploding  shell  directly  over 
the  tent  where  the  field  and  staff  of  the  latter  sat  at 
breakfast,  giving  hair-breadth  escapes  to  the  servants 
who  were  bringing  in  the  coffee,  and  tearing  through 
tents  but  a  few  yards  distant. 

There  were  days  of  discomfort  in  that  Southern  mid- 
summer, when,  as  Camp  said  : 

"The  weather  we  are  having  is  beyond  descrip- 
tion,— not  merely  heat,  but  an  enervating  influence  in 
the  air,  that  makes  it  seem  impossible  to  move  hand 
or  foot.  We  should  hardly  have  energy,  if  we  saw 
the  rebels  coming  over  the  top  of  the  hill,  to  get  up 
and  form  line,  without  a  written  order  from  head- 
quarters." 

And  there  were  stormy  nights  of  discomfort  on  the 
picket-line.  Of  one  of  these  he  wrote : 

"  It  threatened  rain,  and,  before  lying  down  to  sleep, 
we  made  an  inner  roof  of  shelter-tents  to  our  booth  of 
boughs.  The  rain  came.  We  slept  quietly,  and  con- 
gratulated ourselves  upon  our  forethought,  until  the 


PICKETING    IN    THE    RAIN.  24! 

rising  wind  warned  us  that  we  were  not  yet  safe.  Our 
shelter  was  very  slightly  constructed;  it  swayed  to 
and  fro  in  the  gusts,  and  at  length,  as  a  fiercer  blast 
swept  along,  toppled  and  fell  with  a  crash,  burying  us 
completely.  The  materials  of  which  it  was  built  were 
not  heavy  enough  to  hurt  us.  We  turned  over,  and 
went  to  sleep  again.  The  wet  cloth  which  covered  us, 
and  the  branches  piled  above,  were  of  no  service  in 
keeping  off  rain,  and  they  made  rather  a  heavy  counter- 
pane; but  it  was  of  no  use  to  think  of  building  a  new 
shelter  then,  and  we  lay  still.  Our  rubber  blanket 
made  an  excellent  water-proof  bottom  for  the  puddle 
which  was  speedily  formed  around  us;  and,  before 
morning,  we  were  as  well  drenched,  and  as  well  chilled, 
as  need  be.  It  reminded  me  quite  forcibly  of  my  last 
December's  experience  in  the  South  Carolina  woods." 

One  afternoon,  when  the  Tenth  was  charged  with 
the  duty  of  pushing  out  the  picket-line  on  either  side 
of  the  Kingsland  Road,  to  make  room  for  the  expected 
Nineteenth  Corps,  Camp  had  a  very  narrow  escape  on 
the  vedette  line  from  a  rebel  sharpshooter,  close  at 
hand  ;  the  bullet  striking  the  tree  at  which  he  stood, 
just  at  the  height  of  his  head. 

"  Strange,  how  many  bullets  miss  !  "  he  wrote  of  this, 
in  coolness  ;  "  not  only  those  fired  at  random,  in  the 
excitement  of  battle,  but  those  sent  with  deliberate 
aim,  and  at  short  range." 

His  perils  and  privations  seemed  only  to  remind  him 
that  he  was  doing  and  enduring  something  for  the 

16 


242  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

cause  he  loved,  and  to  give  him  fresh  reason  for  thank- 
fulness that  he  was  again  in  the  field. 

"Ah!  those  poor  fellows  in  Columbia,  and  their 
friends, — am  I  not  grateful,  and  you  for  me, that  I  am 
not  there  ?  My  prison  life  seems  to  me  already  like  a 
dream.  I  don't  remember  much  about  it  now  that 
the  nightmare  has  left  me.  How  much  better  to  come 
back  here  and  be  shot,  if  that  proves  the  alternative, 
than  to  have  stayed  where  I  was !  " 

He  never  dwelt  on  the  dark  side  of  his  personal  lot 
in  hard  service.  He  was  never  despondent  for  the 
national  cause.  No  matter  how  much  he  suffered,  no 
matter  how  much  of  gloom  seemed  to  others  to  en- 
shroud the  civil  or  the  military  situation,  he  was  always 
contented  and  hopeful.  The  pillar  by  which  God  led 
him  through  the  wilderness  was  of  brightness  by  day 
and  by  night. 

After  a  night  under  arms  at  the  Deep  Bottom  in- 
trenchments,  the  Tenth  moved  over  Four  Mile  Creek 
to  Strawberry  Plains,  near  Haxall's  Landing,  on  the 
morning  of  July  26,  to  assist  the  Eleventh  Maine  in 
retaking  a  line  of  rebel  rifle-pits  on  the  Malvern  Hill 
Road,  captured  some  days  before  by  the  latter  regi- 
ment, and  yielded  again  by  a  portion  of  the  Nineteenth 
Corps.  Then  followed  a  day  of  sharp  skirmishing ; 
the  rebels  contesting  obstinately  every  foot  of  ground, 
yet  gradually  falling  back.  In  the  forenoon,  while  the 
fight  was  opening,  and  the  Tenth  had  not  yet  advanced 
to  the  extreme  front,  Camp  wrote : 


AT    STRAWBERRY    PLAINS.  243 

"The  regiment  has  stacked  arms  by  the  roadside 
where  the  shaded  path  winds  pleasantly  up  from  the 
river-bank.  Headquarters  are  under  a  large  tree  just 
in  the  rear  of  the  line.  Henry  and  I,  who  always 
carry  writing  materials  in  a  little  haversack  which  we 
keep  by  us,  are  writing  our  letters  in  the  interval  of 
rest.  The  gunboats  are  firing  over  our  heads  at  the 
rebels  in  front;  and  each  explosion,  so  near  are  we  to 
the  muzzles  of  the  guns,  makes  one  feel  as  if  both  ears 
were  being  boxed  with  sledge-hammers,  and  the  top 
of  his  head  flattened  with  a  pile-driver.  Field-pieces 
are  being  rapidly  worked  at  the  top  of  the  bank  above 
us,  and  the  reports  are  almost  incessant. 

"As  I  write,  one  of  our  men  is  being  carried  past, 
wounded  in  the  arm  by  the  premature  explosion  of  a 
shell.  Henry  has  left  his  writing  to  attend  to  him. 
He  was  one  of  a  detachment  stationed  at  a  redan  in 
front  of  our  halting-place.  It  is  said  the  gunboats  are 
using  some  captured  rebel  ammunition  which  doesn't 
fit  the  guns.  Ten  minutes  ago,  a  poor  fellow  was 
carried  by  on  a  stretcher  with  his  foot  torn  completely 
off  by  a  shell  which  burst  short  of  its  mark,  and  killed 
instantly  one  of  his  companions.  How  much  of  this 
artillery  blundering  we  have  seen!  Some  one  ought 
to  be  tried  and  shot  for  it.  Henry  returns,  saying 
that  our  man  has  only  received  a  slight  flesh-wound. 
He  was  lying  down  behind  the  breastworks,  and 
thought  that  there  certainly  he  was  safe.  We  are 
coming  to  the  conclusion  that  the  only  place  where 


244  THE   KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

one  is  really  out  of  danger  is  at  the  extreme  front. 
They  are  firing  now  so  directly  above  our  heads  that 
I  have  to  stop,  and  brush  from  my  paper  the  leaves 
and  twigs  cut  off  by  the  shot,  and  falling  about  us  in 
showers.  I  hope  they  have  good  ammunition  on  that 
boat, — no  short  fuses, — and  that  they  won't  drop  any 
very  large  branches  on  us." 

The  sun  and  the  fire — both  artillery  and  musketry 
— were  extremely  hot  that  day.  The  fighting  was 
Indian  style,  man  by  man  from  tree  to  tree;  the  Union 
skirmish-line  pushing  the  enemy's  similar  line  back 
steadily,  or,  rather,  forcing  a  way,  wedge-shape,  into  it. 
When  evening  came,  the  handful  of  men  from  General 
Foster's  command  held  a  salient  angle  in  the  woods, 
running  into  the  enemy's  position  of  the  morning, 
where  they  were  fronted  and  flanked  by  a  superior 
force.  The  picket-posts  were  for  a  portion  of  the  way 
within  a  few  yards  of  each  other ;  so  that  even  a  heavily 
drawn  breath  could  be  heard  across  the  lines,  and  con- 
versation in  an  ordinary  tone  was  distinctly  audible. 
General  Grant  had  telegraphed  an  order,  just  before 
night,  to  hold  every  inch  that  had  been  gained,  he 
promising  help  before  morning.  The  pickets  of  the 
Tenth  lay  concealed  in  the  low  underbrush.  If  they 
discovered  themselves  by  the  crackling  of  a  twig,  they 
were  liable  to  be  silenced  by  a  shot  from  just  in  their 
front;  and  the  preparations  for  the  morning,  which 
they  could  hear  the  enemy  making,  were  anything  but 
encouraging.  Artillery  was  brought  down,  and  so 


AN   EXCITING   WATCH.  245 

planted  that  the  pickets  could  almost  have  looked  into 
the  gun-muzzles;  while  a  single  discharge  of  grape 
from  the  battery  could  sweep  them  away  like  chaff 
from  the  enfiladed  picket-line.  They  could  hear  the 
braggart  threats  of  annihilation  of  the  venturesome 
Yankees  when  the  daylight  came,  and  they  realized 
their  danger;  yet  all  who  were  unwounded  remained 
firm  and  true.  Adjutant  Camp  crept  along  that  entire 
line,  conveying  orders,  at  imminent  risk,  not  only  of 
being  shot,  but  of  passing  within  the  enemy's  lines;  the 
latter  being  nearer  to  some  posts  than  the  next  vedette, 
and  the  way  being  found  only  with  greatest  difficulty 
in  the  gathering  darkness. 

A  pleasant  incident,  to  Camp,  of  that  evening,  was 
the  meeting  of  a  college  classmate,  Wiswell,  a  captain 
of  the  Eleventh  Maine,  who  had  recently  returned  to 
his  regiment  after  an  absence  of  some  months,  and 
been  all  that  day  on  the  skirmish-line.  Glad  always 
to  meet  a  college  companion,  Camp  especially  de- 
lighted to  find  one  as  a  comrade  in  arms. 

There  was  not  much  sleeping  that  night  among 
officers  or  men  of  the  Tenth, — only  an  anxious  wait- 
ing for  the  morning  whose  sun  must  rise  in  blood. 
Word  was  received  that  the  pontoon  bridge  was  being 
deadened  with  straw  that  a  moving  column  might 
pass  it  noiselessly,  and  that  a  large  force  of  cavalry 
was  on  the  south  bank  of  the  river.  About  daylight 
the  Second  Corps  crossed  over  from  Jones's  Landing, 
having  marched  hurriedly  from  Petersburg.  Generals 


246  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

Hancock  and  Sheridan  were  present  with  their  com- 
mands. Then,  in  the  words  of  Camp : 

"Soon  after  sunrise  the  advance  of  our  forces  com- 
menced. From  our  station  at  the  picket-reserve,  we 
had  a  capital  view  of  all  that  was  done.  A  column  of 
men  moved  forward  across  the  plain  on  our  right ;  the 
pickets  of  the  enemy  fell  back  as  they  approached,  and 
they  descended  into  the  valley  without  serious  opposi- 
tion. Here,  sheltered  by  the  rise  of  ground  before 
them  from  fire,  they  formed  an  open  skirmish-line, 
each  man  with  room  to  act  independently,  and  moved 
up  the  slope.  We  watched  them  with  intent  eager- 
ness. As  they  rose  to  the  level  beyond,  a  sharp  volley 
greeted  them  ;  and  instantly  the  air  was  white  and  the 
hillside  dotted  with  puffs  of  smoke  as  each  man  halted 
for  an  instant  where  he  stood,  fired,  and  moved  on, 
loading  for  another  discharge.  There  is  one  poor 
fellow  down!  and  an  officer,  a  surgeon  perhaps,  bend- 
ing over  him.  There  are  half  a  dozen  more ! — not  all 
of  them  wounded,  however:  they  are  lying  flat  for 
cover,  and  we  can  see  them  loading  and  firing  indus- 
triously. There  are  two  or  three  mounted  officers — 
one  of  them  with  a  straw  hat — cantering  about  among 
the  men.  That  looks  to  us  like  recklessness.  We 
are  in  the  habit  of  seeing  officers  go  into  a  fight  dis- 
mounted; but  we  can't  help  admiring  their  pluck. 

"  Now  most  of  the  line  has  disappeared  behind  the 
crest  of  the  hill  which  slopes  down  toward  the  rebel 
works  just  beyond;  and  we  can  judge  only  from  the 


THE   STRAW- HAT    HERO.  247 

rapid  rifle-cracks  that  the  fight  is  being  hotly  con- 
tested. By  this  time  they  must  be  up  to  the  works. 
But  what  does  this  mean?  There  are  men  moving 
the  wrong  way;  there  come  two  or  three  on  the  run, 
and  twenty  follow  them.  Is  it  a  panic  ?  No  :  the  men 
halt  as  soon  as  they  have  gained  the  partial  shelter  of 
the  slope,  and  open  fire  again.  It  is  plain  that  the  first 
attack  has  failed;  but  they  don't  mean  to  give  it  up 
yet.  They  are  all  on  this  side  of  the  crest  now,  in 
plain  sight;  and  their  officers  are  urging  them  on  for 
another  rush.  A  good  deal  of  the  dash  has  been  taken 
out  of  them,  however,  by  that  unsuccessful  attempt; 
and  they  don't  like  to  go  beyond  the  slope. 

"The  horseman  with  the  straw  hat  gallops  to  and 
fro,  waving  his  sword,  pointing  to  the  front,  pressing 
them  to  come  up  once  more.  Some  are  ready  to  try 
it.  The  color-bearer  rushes  forward,  stands  on  the 
highest  point  of  ground  where  the  bullets  must  be 
flying  like  hail,  turns,  and  waves  his  colors  to  those 
behind.  We  can  hardly  help  cheering  the  brave 
fellow,  and  that  noble  rider  who  is  in  front  of  all,  dash- 
ing on,  and  calling  them  to  follow.  We  expect  every 
moment  to  see  him  go  down,  and  strain  our  eyes  with 
eager  watching.  How  can  men  help  following  him  ? 
But  no:  too  many  hold  back  ;  and  those  who  are  will- 
ing are  discouraged,  and  give  way  too.  Yet  the  straw- 
hat  man  won't  give  it  up  so.  If  it  can't  be  done  in 
one  way,  perhaps  it  can  in  another.  He'll  try  flank- 
ing them.  There  is  a  little  depression  in  the  ground 


248  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

on  the  right.  He  plants  the  colors  in  a  sheltered  spot, 
forms  line  there,  and  moves  off  in  this  direction,  ap- 
proaching obliquely  the  rebel  works;  and  his  men, 
ready  for  anything  except  that  in  which  they  have  just 
failed,  start  after  him  with  a  rush.  They  are  speedily 
out  of  sight. 

"Again  comes  the  sound  of  sharp  musketry;  but 
this  time  there  is  no  falling  back  :  it  grows  more  and 
more  distant,  and  before  long  we  hear  that  the  works 
are  taken  and  four  Parrott  guns  with  them.  Our  own 
men  deserve  part  of  the  credit,  though  they  won't  be 
likely  to  get  it.  That  part  of  the  picket-line  which 
was  nearest  opened  an  effective  fire  upon  the  enemy, 
and,  besides  the  loss  which  they  inflicted,  made  the 
Richmond  Road  so  hot,  that  horses  couldn't  be 
brought  down  to  withdraw  the  artillery  before  the 
works  were  abandoned. 

"We  met  the  officer  in  the  straw  hat  within  the 
works.  Henry  talked  with  him,  and  learned  that 
he  was  lieutenant-colonel  of  the  One  Hundred  and 
Eighty -third  Pennsylvania,  commanding  a  brigade  in 
Barlow's  Division  of  Hancock's  Corps, — a  very  fine- 
looking  fellow,  and  modest  as  he  was  brave.  His 
name  was  Lynch.  His  hat  had  been  pierced  by  a 
bullet,  and  his  horse  shot  under  him ;  but  he  had  come 
out  without  a  scratch.  A  lieutenant-colonel  com- 
manding a  brigade  !  Think  how  the  corps  must  have 
been  cut  up !  " 

The  Tenth  returned  to  its  camp  at  Deep  Bottom, 


ANOTHER    PICKET-FIGHT.  249 

and  resumed  picket-duty,  with  an  occasional  demon- 
stration against  the  enemy,  or  the  meeting  of  an  attack 
on  its  line.  An  affair  of  the  latter  kind  Camp  thus 
described : 

"A  week  ago  Monday  (August  i),  we  were  out  on 
picket.  The  day  had  passed  quietly.  Henry,  seldom 
absent  at  any  time,  and  least  of  all  when  the  regiment 
is  at  the  front,  had  been  called  away  by  business  on 
the  other  side  of  the  river.  It  was  almost  time  for  us 
to  be  relieved, — late  in  the  afternoon, — when  several 
shots  were  suddenly  fired  upon  the  line  in  front.  They 
did  not  start  us ;  but,  when  half  a  dozen  more  came 
in  rapid  succession,  Captain  Goodyear,  who  was  in 
command,  ordered  the  reserve  to  stand  to  arms.  A 
messenger  came;  the  enemy  were  advancing.  We 
marched  immediately  to  the  point  of  attack,  and  re- 
enforced  the  picket-line  with  the  reserve  deployed  as 
skirmishers.  Quite  a  brisk  little  fight  followed,  Indian 
fashion, — eveiy  one,  except  officers,  to  his  tree,  cover- 
ing himself,  keeping  a  sharp  lookout  for  the  similarly 
protected  enemy,  and  firing  whenever  he  caught  a 
glimpse  of  a  gray  jacket. 

"Twice  the  rebels  attempted  to  charge,  setting  up  a 
feeble  yell,  which  was  rather  encouraging  from  its  lack 
of  force  than  disheartening.  Finding  these  Chinese 
tactics  unavailing,  our  men  firmly  holding  their  ground, 
they  finally  retired.  Then  came  the  turn  of  our  boys; 
and  the  complimentary  yells,  the  hoots,  and  the  cock- 
crowing,  which  followed  them  as  they  gave  way  and 


25O  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

left  the  ground,  must  have  been  soothing  enough. 
What  their  loss  was  we  could  not  determine:  ours  was 
three  men  wounded, — one  mortally,  dying  the  next 
day;  another  severely,  but  not  dangerously.  The 
bullet  which  struck  the  third  was  checked  in  its  prog- 
ress by  passing  through  a  stout  tin  cup  and  a  haver- 
sack well  rilled  with  hard-tack, — almost  bullet-proof, — 
and  inflicted  only  a  slight  wound.  Henry  was  on 
hand  before  the  affair  was  fairly  over,  having  heard 
the  firing  on  his  way  back,  and  run  his  horse  all  the 
rest  of  the  distance.  The  boys  chuckled  over  his  ap- 
pearance, believing  that,  if  he  had  been  twenty  miles 
farther  off,  it  would  have  made  no  difference.  Whether 
I  was  glad  to  see  him,  and  he  me,  I  needn't  say." 

Camp  gave  the  following  thrilling  sketch  of  the 
first  military  execution  which  he  witnessed,  occurring 
August  8,  at  Deep  Bottom. 

"  A  singular  incident  took  place  on  our  picket-line 
a  short  time  since.  A  deserter  who  came  in  at  the 
Grover  House  was  recognized  by  the  Twenty-fourth 
Massachusetts  men,  who  were  on  duty  there,  as  one 
of  their  old  comrades,  who  had  deserted  to  the  enemy 
two  years  ago,  while  the  regiment  was  at  New-Berne. 
Tired  of  the  rebel  service,  and  encouraged  by  former 
success  in  shifting  sides,  he  had  again  run  the  lines, 
and  thought,  on  reaching  our  posts,  that  his  danger 
was  over,  little  suspecting,  until  it  was  too  late,  that 
he  had  walked  straight  into  his  old  regiment.  Had 
he  entered  from  any  other  point  of  the  whole  rebel 


A    DESERTER    CAUGHT.  25  I 

territory,  had  he  made  the  attempt  on  any  other  day 
than  the  one  on  which  the  Twenty -fourth  guarded 
the  line,  or,  even  then,  had  not  a  little  drummer-boy 
accidentally  present,  who  was  a  member  of  the  same 
company  to  which  he  had  belonged,  remembered 
him,  he  would  have  escaped  without  recognition. 
Humanly  speaking,  his  chances  were  a  thousand 
to  one  for  safety,  after  having  once  passed  the  rebel 
vedettes. 

"  He  was,  of  course,  held.  Charges  were  preferred 
against  him,  he  was  tried,  convicted,  and  sentenced  to 
be  shot  in  presence  of  the  brigade  to  which  he  had 
been  attached  while  in  our  service.  The  orders  were 
received  on  Sunday  last.  Colonel  Osborn  of  the 
Twenty-fourth  was  charged  with  their  execution.  He 
sent  for  Henry  to  talk  with  the  man, —  a  hardened 
desperado,  at  first  reckless,  defiant,  professing  utter 
carelessness  as  to  his  future,  either  in  this  world  or  the 
next.  .  .  .  Softened  at  length,  he  acknowledged  his 
anxiety  and  fear,  sobbed,  broke  down  utterly,  and 
desired  that  prayer  should  be  made  for  him.  The 
execution  was  to  take  place  at  four  in  the  afternoon, 
on  Monday.  The  condemned  man  was  a  Catholic ; 
and  a  priest  had  been  sent  for  [from  the  Petersburg 
front]  on  Sunday  night,  Henry  preferring,  of  course, 
that  the  man's  wishes  should  be  consulted  in  such  a 
matter;  but  it  was  doubtful  whether  one  could  be 
found  and  brought  to  the  place  in  time.  One  arrived, 
however,  before  daylight ;  and  Henry  was  spared  the 


252  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

exceedingly  trying  duties  which  had  seemed  likely  to 
devolve  upon  him. 

"At  half-past  three  the  regiments  of  the  brigade 
were  formed,  each  upon  its  own  parade-ground,  and 
then  marched  to  a  wide  open  plain,  bounded  on  one 
side  by  a  gentle  slope.  Here  they  were  formed  in 
three  sides  of  a  hollow  square, — the  fourth  being  the 
vacant  hillside :  there  was  a  newly  dug  grave,  with 
the  fresh  earth  heaped  beside  it.  The  proceedings 
of  the  court-martial  and  the  order  for  the  execution 
were  now  read  to  each  regiment;  I,  of  course,  per- 
forming the  duty  for  our  own.  Meantime  a  small 
column  was  slowly  approaching  the  place.  In  the 
center  was  a  wagon  containing  the  prisoner,  securely 
fettered.  The  priest  rode  with  him.  A  strong  guard 
marched  in  front  and  rear.  At  their  head,  a  band 
played  plaintive  funeral  music,  swelling  solemnly  above 
a  heavy  undertone  of  muffled  drums.  In  the  distance, 
they  hardly  seemed  to  move,  and  the  sound  of  the 
dead-march  came  softly  to  our  ears.  At  length  they 
drew  near,  approaching  with  slow  measured  tread ; 
the  drum-beat  was  a  deep  subdued  roll  of  thunder,  the 
notes  of  the  wind  instruments  were  a  piercing  wail,  as 
they  passed  before  us  and  halted  opposite  the  grave. 
Then  all  was  silence.  Every  eye  was  turned  toward 
one  spot,  every  ear  attentive.  But  for  the  impatient 
stamping  of  officers'  horses  and  those  of  the  cavalry 
squadron  drawn  up  on  the  hillside,  there  was  hardly 
more  sound  than  if  the  place  was  the  same  solitary 


A   MILITARY    EXECUTION.  253 

field  it  had  been  before  armies  encamped  and  marched 
upon  Virginia  soil. 

"The  prisoner  left  the  wagon;  he  seemed  to  step 
firmly  and  boldly  upon  the  ground ;  but  we  were  too 
distant  to  see  the  expression  which  his  face  wore. 
The  priest  was  by  his  side.  They  knelt  by  the  grave, 
and  prayer  was  offered,  inaudible  to  any  but  the  con- 
demned. Then  a  platoon  of  twelve  men,  led  by  an 
officer,  marched  out,  halted  a  few  paces  in  front  of  the 
spot,  and  faced  toward  it.  The  officer  advanced,  and 
read  to  the  prisoner  the  proceedings  of  the  court  and 
its  sentence, — a  cruel  formality  it  seemed,  a  needless 
lengthening  of  the  terrible  suspense.  Did  the  prisoner 
wait  with  nervous  impatience,  as  we  did,  for  the  worst 
to  come?  or  did  he  wish  each  sentence  was  a  volume, 
that  he  might  cling  a  little  longer  to  life  ? 

"  The  reading  was  finished,  a  broad  white  bandage 
was  bound  about  his  eyes ;  and,  with  arms  firmly 
pinioned  behind  his  back,  he  was  made  to  kneel  upon 
the  coffin  of  unpainted  pine  which  had  been  placed 
before  the  grave.  Then  for  the  first  time  the  guard 
left  his  side,  and  all  fell  back  who  had  stood  around 
him.  There  was  a  hush,  in  comparison  with  which 
the  former  silence  had  been  tumult. 

"The  officer  in  command  of  the  firing  party  waved 
his  sword:  each  piece  was  brought  to  a  'ready.' 
Again,  and  they  were  leveled  in  aim.  The  third  time, 
and  a  quick  sharp  volley  sounded  through  a  cloud  of 
smoke.  The  blindfold,  pinioned  form  tottered  for  a 


254  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

moment;  then  bent  forward,  and  pitched  heavily  to 
the  ground.  There  was  a  long  breath  of  relief  drawn 
by  each  who  looked  on, — it  was  over,  was  it?  There 
might  yet  be  a  doubt.  The  officers  stepped  forward 
with  a  surgeon  to  examine  the  body,  which  lay  prone 
and  motionless  in  its  suite  of  rebel  gray.  The  lungs 
still  feebly  expanded,  and  a  low  moan  seemed  to 
issue  from  them.  Mere  mechanical  action,  the  sur- 
geon thought;  but  a  platoon  which  had  been  held  in 
reserve  was  speedily  ordered  up,  a  second  volley  fired, 
and  life  at  length  was  pronounced  utterly  extinct. 
Then  the  whole  force  was  wheeled  into  column,  and 
marched  slowly  past  the  corpse,  a  gory,  ghastly  sight, 
lying  where  it  fell,  pierced  with  twenty  bullets. 

"  We  returned  to  camp  late  in  the  afternoon.  The 
scene  had  been  one  of  the  most  impressive  we  had 
ever  witnessed,  and  its  effect  upon  the  men,  I  think, 
just  what  it  was  designed  to  be.  We  had  never  before 
been  present  at  a  military  execution;  and  the  death 
penalty,  so  common  in  the  sentences  of  courts-martial, 
so  seldom  hitherto  carried  into  effect,  had  ceased,  in  a 
measure,  to  possess  significance.  The  case  was  an 
aggravated  one,  and  well  deserved  capital  punish- 
ment,— not  merely  desertion,  but  desertion  to  the 
enemy,  and  long  service  against  his  comrades.  The 
man  claimed  never  to  have  been  in  action,  but  was  for 
some  months  on  guard  at  the  Libby.  Henry  ques- 
tioned him  as  to  the  time :  it  was  between  the  periods 
of  our  visits  to  Richmond,  but  including  neither. 


A    CONCESSION   TO    SENTIMENT.  255 

Twenty  bullets  I  said  at  random  :  there  ought  to  have 
been  twenty.  I  have  learned  since  that  there  were 
but  thirteen, — five  of  the  first  volley,  eight  of  the 
second;  twenty-two  in  all  being  fired.  There  were 
twenty-four  men ;  but,  on  all  such  occasions,  one  in 
each  platoon  has  a  blank  cartridge,  none  but  the  officer 
knowing  which  it  is.  Any,  therefore,  who  may  shrink 
from  the  feeling  that  he  has  done  executioner's  duty, 
and  has  blood  other  than  that  of  an  enemy  upon  his 
hands,  is  at  liberty  to  believe,  if  he  chooses,  that  his 
was  not  the  fatal  shot.  Does  it  seem  strange  to  find 
among  soldiers  such  horror  of  blood,  and  such  con- 
siderate regard  for  the  feelings?  Just  the  place  to 
look  for  both  !  " 

Sunday  morning,  August  14,  opened  a  week  of  hard 
fighting  for  the  armies  of  the  Potomac  and  the  James. 
The  latter  moved  toward  Richmond  from  Deep  Bottom 
to  enable  the  former  to  establish  itself  on  the  Weldon 
Road.  General  Terry's  division  did  most  of  the  fight- 
ing north  of  the  James ;  General  Foster's  brigade  losing 
in  the  week  fully  one-third  of  its  entire  available  force; 
the  other  brigade  suffering  also  severely. 

Camp  thus  describes  the  opening,  and  some  of  the 
later  incidents,  of  the  week's  operations : 

"  Last  Saturday,  we  had  orders  to  be  ready  for  a 
move.  Those  who  pretended  to  have  any  opinion  on 
the  subject  talked  of  Washington,  the  Shenandoah,  or 
Weldon.  We  packed,  and  went  to  bed  late  and  tired. 


256  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

At  4  A.  M.  (Sunday)  came  orders  to  fall  in  at  once 
(there  was  great  haste),  and  march  to  the  picket-line. 
Halfway  there,  an  order  to  double-quick ;  within  five 
minutes,  the  same  again.  At  the  front,  General  Foster 
was  waiting  for  us ;  his  orders  had  been  to  attack 
at  daylight.  We  must  move  forward  at  once, —  not 
precisely  like  a  trip  to  Washington  ! 

"We  formed  line,  threw  out  skirmishers,  and  ad- 
vanced, connecting  with  other  regiments  on  the  right 
and  left.  A  very  few  minutes,  and  the  fight  was  brisk. 
The  main  body  of  the  regiment  was  halted,  and  the 
men  lay  down,  while  officers  moved  up  and  down  the 
line;  skirmishers  dodged  from  tree  to  tree,  and  bullets 
pattered  fast  in  all  directions.  Henry  and  I  had  on 
straw  hats,  unsuited  for  a  fight,  though  well  adapted 
for  a  journey  toward  the  Shenandoah;  and  Henry 
secured  caps,  first  for  me,  and  afterward  for  himself, — 
one  belonging  to  one  of  our  wounded  men,  the  other 
to  one  just  shot  dead.  A  hat  was  better  for  the  first, 
none  the  worse  for  the  second. 

"  Going  down  the  line,  I  stopped  to  deliver  an  order 
to  Lieutenant  Sharp.  We  stood  for  a  moment  talk- 
ing; and  I  had  hardly  turned  away  when  a  bullet 
passed  through  his  head  just  behind  the  eyes.  Officers 
went  down  fast.  Captain  Quinn  had  charge  of  the 
skirmishers.  Two  of  his  men,  stepping  in  succession 
behind  a  large  tree  which  seemed  to  offer  excellent 
shelter,  fell, — one  dead,  the  other  severely  wounded. 
He  moved  forward  to  the  same  place,  and  was  in- 


CHARGE   AND    COUNTERCHARGE.  25 / 

stantly  shot  dead ;  all  three  within  two  minutes.  It 
was  some  time  before  his  body  could  be  recovered. 
Captain  Webb  was  wounded,  and  carried  back;  and 
presently  we  saw  two  men  helping  Lieutenant  Brown 
to  the  rear  with  a  bullet  through  his  leg.  A  moment 
after  I  left  Sharp,  I  came  upon  one  of  our  men  lying 
on  the  ground  with  the  blood  pouring  from  a  wound 
in  the  shoulder.  Asking  his  name  of  those  who  stood 
by,  I  was  told  it  was  Dwyer,  of  Company  F.  He 
looked  up  as  I  inquired.  Tin  a  dead  man,  Adjutant.' 
'  I  hope  not,'  said  I ;  but  he  knew  too  well :  he  did  not 
live  to  be  carried  from  the  field. 

"There  was  a  yell  from  the  rebels  in  front,  a  louder 
crash  of  musketry.  Our  skirmishers  stood  fast,  and 
drove  back  the  advancing  enemy;  but,  on  our  left, 
men  came  pouring  back  in  panic.  We  helped  their 
officers  to  rally  them;  the  rebels  dared  not  follow 
them  up;  the  line  was  re-established,  and  the  fight 
went  on  as  before.  This  had  lasted  more  than  an 
hour  when  the  Twenty-fourth  Massachusetts,  which 
had  been  held  in  reserve,  came  marching  up  in  double 
column:  they  were  to  charge  through  the  dense  wood 
upon  the  rifle-pits  beyond.  We  had  orders  to  follow, 
and  support  them.  They  moved  forward  splendidly, 
with  well-closed  lines  and  steady  step ;  they  passed  us 
a  few  rods,  and  the  undergrowth  hid  them  from  sight. 
We  came  after  in  line  of  battle.  Not  very  sleepy  work, 
such  an  advance  as  that. 

"Two  or  three  minutes  passed;  the  same  irregular 


258  THE   KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

fire  in  front,  and,  with  a  long  tremendous  cheer,  the 
Twenty-fourth  made  their  rush.  Our  boys  needed  no 
orders ;  a  shout  burst  from  every  throat,  and  the  whole 
line  dashed  on.  But,  instead  of  the  fierce  volleys  we 
expected  to  meet,  there,  on  reaching  open  ground,  was 
the  line  of  works  deserted.  The  yell  and  the  charge 
had  been  too  much  for  the  nerves  of  our  friends  in 
gray;  and,  almost  without  another  shot,  they  had 
turned,  and  made  the  best  of  their  way  to  the  rear. 
It  was  a  strong  position,  and  an  attacking  force  might 
have  been  made  to  suffer  fearful  loss.  The  Twenty- 
fourth  took  twenty  or  thirty  prisoners, — as  contented 
and  happy  a  looking  set  of  fellows,  as  they  marched 
off,  as  I  ever  saw.  No  wonder ! " 

After  a  brief  rest,  the  Tenth  was  ordered  to  a  new 
position;  and  the  day  was  passed  in  marching  and 
countermarching,  and  covering  by  skirmish -line  the 
movements  of  other  commands.  In  the  evening,  during 
a  severe  storm,  the  regiment  moved  over  to  Strawberry 
Plains, — where  it  had  aided  in  the  capture  of  the  Par- 
rott  guns  a  few  weeks  before, — and  there  halted  until 
daylight.  Monday  was  intensely  hot.  The  march  up 
the  New  Market  Road  was  exhausting;  men  by  the 
score  fell  smitten  with  sunstroke.  The  only  rest  secured 
to  the  Third  Brigade  was  during  the  afternoon  under  a 
sharp  artillery  fire  near  Silver  Hill.  The  night  again 
called  for  picket-duty  on  an  exposed  front.  Before  day- 
light of  Tuesday  the  troops  were  up  and  in  line,  ready 
for  a  start,  and  by  five  o'clock  were  on  the  move. 


LOST    IN   THE   WOODS.  259 

An  attack  on  the  enemy's  new  position  was  begun 
about  eight  o'clock.  Camp's  narrative  thus  continues : 

"A  skirmish-line  was  thrown  out  to  cover  the  ad- 
vance ;  but  the  woods  were  so  thick  that  it  was  almost 
impossible  for  them  to  regulate  their  movements  as 
they  should  by  ours.  We  marched  in  line  of  battle, 
changing  direction  by  order.  They  became  separated 
from  us,  and  we  from  the  troops  upon  our  left;  so 
that  our  flank  was  swung,  entirely  exposed,  far  to  the 
front.  Colonel  Otis,  becoming  anxious  at  this  state 
of  affairs,  sent  me  forward  to  find,  if  possible,  and  bring 
into  position,  the  skirmishers.  Twenty  paces  into  the 
thicket,  and  the  regiment  and  I  were  lost  to  each 
other. 

"I  haven't  confidence  enough  in  my  own  bump  of 
locality  to  enjoy  such  exploring  expeditions  as  these, 
even  when  nothing  serious  or  important  is  at  stake; 
and,  when  I  know  that  lives  may  hang  upon  my  mov- 
ing a  few  yards  too  far  to  the  right  or  the  left,  there  is 
nothing  in  open  battle  from  which  I  so  much  shrink. 
It  was  a  blind  search.  I  moved  rapidly  to  where  the 
line  should  have  been :  there  was  no  sign  of  it.  Then 
forward,  more  carefully,  through  thicket,  over  fallen 
trees,  across  swamps,  until  I  came  to  a  ravine.  I 
halted  to  listen  if  I  could  hear  men  anywhere  moving, 
parting  the  bushes,  or  treading  on  dry  leaves.  No 
sound:  the  woods  were  as  quiet  and  apparently  as 
tenantless  as  if  I  were  in  the  wilderness  beyond  the 
Rocky  Mountains. 


260  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

"The  ravine  would  be  a  good  line  of  defense;  the 
opposite  side  a  very  likely  position  to  meet  an  enemy. 
Yet  I  could  not  turn  back  with  no  other  report  than 
that  I  had  found  nobody  and  seen  nothing.  So  I  went 
down  the  hill,  crossed  the  brook  at  its  foot,  and,  with 
cocked  pistol  in  hand,  moved  cautiously  up  the  oppo- 
site slope,  keeping  a  sharp  eye  upon  each  tree,  each 
bush,  each  fallen  log,  that  might  cover  a  rebel  picket 
Nervous  work.  Just  at  the  crest  was  a  little  pile  of 
fresh  earth, — a  rifle-pit!  It  was  empty.  I  satisfied 
myself  of  that  point,  and  then  went  up  to  examine 
it.  It  was  large  enough  to  shelter  but  a  single  man, 
hastily  dug,  and  apparently  not  more  than  twenty- 
four  hours  old ;  undoubtedly  occupied  the  night  be- 
fore by  one  of  their  pickets.  I  was  glad  he  had 
fallen  back  before  I  came  down  to  the  brook  opposite 
his  post. 

"  I  didn't  feel  called  upon  to  go  any  farther,  having 
reached  what  had  been  so  recently  the  rebel  line;  and 
returned,  after  a  little  farther  wandering,  to  the  regi- 
ment, reporting  what  I  had  and  had  not  seen.  Colonel 
Otis  sent  me  to  General  Foster,  who  inquired  if  I  had 
been  beyond  the  ravine,  and,  on  my  explanation,  sent 
word  to  the  division  commander;  and  a  brigade  was 
ordered  to  fill  the  gap  in  the  line. 

"The  skirmishers,  who  had  gone  far  to  the  right,  at 
length  made  their  way  back  to  us,  and  the  regiment, 
advancing,  finally  crossed  the  same  brook  I  had  been 
over,  and  halted  in  rear  of  the  slope,  while  the  skir- 


DRIVING   THE   ENEMY.  26 1 

mishers  ascended.  The  latter  had  hardly  reached  the 
high  ground,  when  the  enemy's  line  opened  upon  them 
from  just  beyond ;  and  they  were  immediately  engaged 
in  a  brisk  skirmish.  We  lay  down ;  Henry  and  I  sitting 
together  by  a  fallen  tree,  while  bullets  flew  fast  over 
our  heads.  Not  all  overhead.  As  Colonel  Otis  and 
I  were  passing  down  toward  the  left  to  examine  the 
position,  we  came  upon  an  officer  lying  dead  or  just 
dying, — the  blood  oozing  from  a  ghastly  wound.  Not 
a  soldier  near  him:  he  had  either  come  as  I  came, 
alone,  or  been  abandoned  by  his  men.  We,  of  course, 
could  do  nothing  for  him  then;  but  the  colonel  after- 
ward had  opportunity  to  speak  of  him  to  some  of  his 
own  regiment,  and  the  body  was  carried  away. 

"  The  officers  of  our  skirmish-line  soon  sent  back 
word  that  they  were  pushing  the  enemy;  had  already 
driven  him  from  two  lines  of  rifle-pits,  and  only  wanted 
supports  to  keep  him  going.  Two  more  companies 
were  immediately  sent.  They  had  hardly  had  time 
to  reach  position,  when  a  cheer  rang  through  the 
woods  far  to  our  right,  and  came  rolling  down  the  line. 
We  knew  that  Hawley's  brigade  was  charging.  The 
Twenty-fourth  took  it  up.  Our  boys  sprang  to  their 
feet,  and  joined  in  the  shout.  Colonel  Otis  gave  the 
word,  and  the  line  rushed  on,  over  the  brow  of  the 
hill,  through  the  undergrowth  where  the  skirmishing 
had  been  so  sharp,  straight  on  without  halt  or  hesita- 
tion, while  the  rebel  skirmishers  vanished  from  before, 
until  the  main  line  of  rifle-pits  was  reached  and  occu- 


262  THE   KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

pied.  But  to  the  left,  where  our  skirmishers  extended 
far  beyond  the  flank  of  the  regiment,  the  enemy  pressed 
them  hard ;  and  we  heard  they  were  beginning  to  fall 
back.  Henry  and  I  went  in  that  direction,  and,  mov- 
ing a  short  distance  through  the  low  pines,  saw  before 
us  a  few  of  our  men  coming  in  from  the  front ;  not  in 
panic,  but  in  steady  retreat.  We  jumped  forward,  and 
called  to  them  to  halt  and  stand  firm.  '  Orders  to  fall 
back,  sir  I '  said  one.  '  Boys  ! '  shouted  Henry,  '  the 
Tenth  never  falls  back ! '  Ah !  there  came  a  staff- 
officer,  terribly  flustered,  and  on  a  trot  toward  the 
rear.  'There  were  orders/  said  he,  apologetically, 
seeming  to  perceive,  as  I  met  him,  that  I  felt  some- 
thing more  than  mild  surprise.  'They  came  down 
from  the  right.' — 'I  am  from  the  right/  said  I;  'there 
are  no  such  orders  there.'  He  sneaked  away;  and 
our  men,  finding  that  they  need  not  retreat,  promptly 
advanced  once  more  toward  the  front. 

"The  regiment,  having  halted,  and  formed  and 
dressed  its  ranks,  soon  moved  forward  again  to  a  posi- 
tion near  the  edge  of  a  second  and  much  larger  ravine, 
on  the  opposite  side  of  which  the  rebels  were  in- 
trenched in  strong  works  curving  around  our  left;  so 
that  the  ground  held  by  our  advance  was  swept  by  a 
cross-fire  against  which  no  ordinary  cover  afforded 
security.  Word  came  from  the  skirmish-line  that 
Captain  White  was  wounded  seriously,  it  was  feared 
mortally.  Henry  saw  to  his  being  carried  back  to  the 
hospital,  where  the  other  wounded  had  already  gone, 


BRANDISHING   WATERMELON.  263 

and  to  which  he  was  himself  summoned,  a  few  minutes 
later,  by  a  message  from  one  of  them.  ...  In  a  short 
time  Henry  returned;  how  glad  we  were  to  meet  in 
safety !  With  thoughtful  kindness,  he  brought  for  us 
a  huge  watermelon.  It  was  speedily  cut  and  divided, 
General  Foster  very  glad  to  get  his  share.  What 
could  have  been  more  refreshing  under  fire  ?  Before 
it  was  finished,  orders  were  given  for  our  regiment  to 
swing  around,  fronting  the  left,  and  covering  the  flank, 
upon  which  an  attack  was  momentarily  expected.  It 
was  comical  enough  to  see  officers  forming  their  men, 
enforcing  their  orders  with  brandished  slices  of  melon, 
and  taking  a  bite  between  each  command. 

"The  remainder  of  the  day  was  occupied  with  con- 
tinual skirmishing,  the  main  body  being  so  near  the 
advance  as  to  get  the  benefit  of  the  fire  from  the 
enemy.  Officers  and  men  sheltered  themselves  as 
well  as  possible.  .  .  .  Men  fell  near  us,  both  in  the 
regimental  line  and  among  the  skirmishers ;  but  our 
loss  was  slight  in  comparison  with  that  of  the  morn- 
ing's advance.  There  was  rain  during  the  afternoon; 
but  we  were  not  in  the  mood  to  be  greatly  concerned 
about  a  wetting.  At  dusk  we  retired  a  few  rods  to 
the  rifle-pits  we  had  captured  in  the  morning, — a  much 
more  defensible  position  than  that  we  had  occupied 
during  the  day, — and  commenced  at  once  throwing 
up  a  line  of  works  fronting  toward  the  enemy.  Large 
details  from  each  regiment  were  set  at  work  chopping 
and  shoveling;  and  by  two  in  the  morning  a  strong 


264  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

breastwork,  three  or  four  feet  thick  at  the  top,  and 
covered  on  the  inside  with  well-braced  logs,  covered 
the  front  of  the  whole  brigade.  We  should  have  been 
glad  of  sleep  after  such  a  day  as  had  passed,  but  we 
contented  ourselves  with  a  morning  nap ;  and  slept  all 
the  more  soundly  for  knowing  that  we  were  ready  in 
case  of  an  attack. 

"  Our  loss  during  the  day  had  been  less  in  officers, 
but  greater  in  men,  than  on  Monday.  Captain  White 
was  one  of  the  finest  officers  in  the  regiment.  We 
hear  now  that  his  situation  is  exceedingly  critical  [he 
died  in  hospital].  Colonel  Otis  and  Lieutenant  Savage 
were  each  hit,  but  not  severely  enough  to  take  them 
from  the  field.  It  was  the  third  bullet  or  shell  con- 
tusion, not  drawing  blood,  which  the  colonel  has 
received  in  battle, — singular,  isn't  it?  Wounds  of  this 
sort  are  sometimes  quite  painful  and  troublesome  for 
weeks  or  even  months. 

"Poor  Dennis  Mahoney  was  shot  through  the  body 
early  in  the  day.  It  was  he  who  sent  for  Henry  to 
come  to  the  hospital  and  see  him.  He  was  the  ideal  of 
a  private  soldier.  Tall  and  fine-looking ;  always  neat 
and  soldierly  in  dress  and  equipments  ;  always  cheerful 
and  prompt  in  duty;  brave,  to  recklessness;  never 
missing  a  chance  to  volunteer  for  an  expedition,  a 
scout,  or  any  service  of  danger;  full  of  fun  and  dash 
and  spirit, — it  would  have  been  difficult  to  match  him 
in  the  regiment.  .  .  . 

"  I  was  reported  killed  myself,  and  talked  next  day 


ATTACKED   WHILE   WITHDRAWING.  26$ 

with  those  who  had  not  only  been  told  by  men  of  our 
regiment  that  I  had  fallen,  but  who  had  themselves 
seen  and  recognized  my  body  as  it  lay  upon  the  field, 
— so  they  certainly  thought.  I  am  glad  to  believe  the 
story  couldn't  well  reach  you." 

The  hastily  erected  breastworks  were  held  for  forty- 
eight  hours ;  one  or  two  attempts  being  made  by  the 
enemy,  meantime,  at  different  points,  to  break  the  line. 
Thursday  noon  there  were  indications  of  a  contem- 
plated withdrawal  of  the  Union  troops. 

"The  movement  which  we  expected,"  wrote  Camp, 
"  commenced  late  in  the  afternoon  ;  the  troops  on 
the  right  retiring  first,  and  so,  brigade  after  brigade, 
down  the  line.  The  time  for  us  to  march  had  not  yet 
come.  Hawley's  brigade  was  passing,  when  a  sharp 
fire  opened  a  little  to  our  right,  and  speedily  became 
general  along  the  whole  picket-line.  The  enemy  had 
evidently  discovered  that  we  were  moving,  and  meant 
to  take  advantage  of  it.  Hawley's  men  were  hurried 
back  just  in  time;  for  the  rebels  came  on  with  a  rush 
and  a  yell.  All  along  our  front  the  woods  rang  with 
their  shouts  and  the  rapid  reports  of  musketry;  while 
the  pickets,  pressed  back  by  numbers,  came  hurrying 
in,  climbing  over  the  works,  and  somewhat  inclined, 
part  of  them,  to  continue  their  movement  toward  the 
rear. 

"  Hardly  waiting  for  all  of  these  to  come  in,  two 
regiments  near  us  now  opened  fire.  The  whole  line 
of  works  was  ablaze  with  rifle-flashes,  and  the  sound 


266  THE   KNIGHTLY  SOLDIER. 

• 

was  one  continuous  roar.  Our  regiment  was  in  re- 
serve, deployed  in  long  open  line,  ten  or  fifteen  yards 
behind  the  others,  and  deprived,  of  course,  in  great 
measure,  of  the  shelter  afforded  by  the  works.  There 
was  already  some  unsteadiness  among  those  who  were 
firing,  when  our  own  artillery  opened  from  a  position 
some  distance  to  the  rear,  intending  to  fire  over  our 
heads,  but  dropping  almost  every  shell  with  horrible 
precision  directly  among  us.  Henry  was  standing  a 
few  yards  from  me,  when  one  of  them  exploded  in  his 
very  face,  seemingly  but  a  few  inches  above  and  before 
him,  knocking  him  down,  blinded  and  almost  stunned, 
by  the  flash  and  the  concussion.  It  was  a  spherical 
case.  The  fragments  and  the  bullets  they  had  en- 
closed tore  the  trees  and  the  ground  all  around, — be- 
fore, behind,  and  on  every  side;  but,  most  wonderfully 
and  providentially,  he  was  unhurt.  At  the  same 
moment,  another  exploded  among  the  men  in  front  of 
our  regiment.  It  was  more  than  they  could  stand. 
A  dozen  started  for  the  rear,  a  hundred  followed,  then 
the  whole  line  broke,  turned  back,  and  surged  away 
from  the  works,  through  our  line,  and  into  the  woods. 
"Our  boys  sprang  forward  to  fill,  as  well  as  their 
thin  line  enabled  them  to,  the  vacancy,  and  with  cool 
determination  held  the  enemy  at  bay.  The  Twenty- 
fourth  Massachusetts  stood  firm  on  our  right, — New 
England  Yankees,  every  man;  all  this  was  like  a  flash. 
As  the  break  commenced,  our  officers  rushed  among 
the  fugitives,  shouted  encouragement,  entreated,  threat- 


STAYING   A   PANIC.  267 

ened,  seized  them,  and  flung  them  back  to  the  front, — 
all  did  our  best  to  turn  the  tide.  I  haven't  worked  so 
since  the  Worcester  regatta.  We  were  in  some  degree 
successful.  A  dozen  looked  on  hesitatingly  while  our 
major  flogged  an  officer,  a  six-foot  skulker,  back  to 
the  works  with  the  flat  of  his  sword,  and  concluded  to 
stay  there  themselves.  Indeed,  I  ought  to  say  that 
many  of  the  regiment  stood  fast  from  the  first.  .  .  . 

"  Having  persuaded  the  enemy  not  to  interfere  with 
us,  the  movement  was  resumed.  Our  regiment  formed 
the  rearguard,  as  so  often  before ;  and,  retiring  but  a 
short  distance,  established  a  new  picket-line,  behind 
which  the  rest  of  the  army  kept  on  its  way  toward  the 
river.  No  advance  was  attempted  by  the  rebels  until 
morning,  when  they  occupied,  without  resistance,  the 
works  which  we  had  abandoned.  It  was  about  3  A.  M. 
when  we  lay  down. 

"  A  rainy  night  was  followed  by  a  rainy  day.  Our 
pickets  had  some  sharp  exchanges  of  shots  with  the 
rebel  skirmishers.  Six  bullets  struck  the  tree  behind 
which  Sergeant  Peck,  of  Company  A,  sheltered  him- 
self; and  one  or  two  of  our  men  on  advanced  posts 
narrowly  escaped  capture.  At  dark  on  Friday  our 
pickets  were  all  gathered  in,  and  we  marched  over 
roads  of  horrible  mud,  through  the  rain,  until  we 
reached,  about  midnight,  the  rest  of  the  brigade,  again 
behind  strong  works,  at  no  great  distance  from  the 
river.  Our  tired  men  stretched  themselves  upon  the 
soaked  ground.  We  had  a  little  fire  built,  and  our 


268  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

shelter-tents  stretched.  Henry  and  I,  however,  had 
been,  without  our  rubber  coats,  to  gather  in  pickets  at 
dark,  and  were  too  thoroughly  drenched  to  be  dried 
in  one  night.  So  we  lay  down,  and,  once  asleep,  it 
made  no  difference.  Saturday  was  another  quiet,  rainy 
day.  We  marched  at  dark ;  reached  Strawberry 
Plains ;  again  established  a  picket-line  to  cover  gene- 
ral movements. 

"  Establishing  a  picket-line  at  midnight,  stretching 
a  mile  or  more  from  right  to  left,  especially  if  the 
weather  is  dark  and  stormy,  is  no  joke;  but  we  are 
pretty  well  accustomed  to  it  now.  A  short  sleep  and 
we  were  up  again  at  daybreak.  All  was  safe.  We 
were  the  only  troops  who  had  not  crossed  the  river. 
Falling  back  in  skirmishing-line,  lest  the  enemy  should 
attack  at  the  last  moment,  we  assembled  on  the  river- 
bank,  marched  down  to  the  water's  edge,  across  the 
pontoon,  which  workmen  were  already  taking  to 
pieces,  and  stood  once  more  upon  the  neck  of  land 
along  which  lay  the  safe  road  to  camp.  It  was  the 
first  time  for  a  week  when  we  had  felt  secure  from 
immediate  attack — a  pleasant  relief  from  the  continued 
strain  of  watchful  anxiety.  An  hour  more,  and  the 
early  Sabbath  morning  found  us  in  our  pleasant  old 
camp,  weary  with  a  week  of  toil  and  of  battle,  rejoicing 
in  the  day  of  quiet  and  of  rest." 

The  Tenth  had  taken  out  from  camp  fifteen  line- 
ofricers  and  about  three  hundred  and  forty  men.  Its 
casualties,  during  the  week  of  absence,  were  seven 


REST    ENJOYED    AND    BROKEN.  269 

officers  arid  sixty-five  men  killed  and  wounded,  and 
three  men  taken  prisoners. 

Of  the  twenty-four  hours  succeeding  the  return  of 
his  regiment,  Camp  wrote: 

"Sunday,  August  21,  we  had  a  quiet  day  of  rest, 
though  there  was  too  much  to  do,  in  the  way  of  re- 
establishing ourselves,  to  allow  us  to  lie  down  and 
sleep,  as  we  would  gladly  have  done.  We  looked 
forward  to  the  night,  determined  to  go  to  bed  as  soon 
after  dark  as  possible,  and  sleep  a  good  ten  hours 
before  rising  again.  Henry  held  a  prayer-meeting, 
unusually  interesting  and  well  attended,  at  dusk,  in 
our  large  commissary  tent,  and  we  returned  to  our 
own  quarters.  Wouldn't  we  have  a  good  rest  now? 
Orders  had  arrived  to  be  ready  for  an  immediate 
march!  The  explosion  of  a  mine  under  us  would 
have  been  nothing  to  it.  Not  that  there  was  any 
burst  of  indignation,  or  any  considerable  degree  of 
grumbling.  I  have  known  five  times  as  much  over 
trifles  not  worth  speaking  of;  but  it  seemed  to  finish 
up  whatever  of  cheerful  energy  was  left  by  the  weari- 
ness of  the  week  among  officers  or  men.  There  were 
the  orders ;  there  was  nothing  more  to  be  said.  We 
made  our  preparations  in  a  dogged,  mechanical  kind 
of  a  way.  Henry  and  I  took  a  bath — more  refreshing 
than  sleep — and  lay  down  for  a  nap  before  word  came 
for  the  march.  It  arrived  just  before  midnight. 
Where  we  were  bound,  no  one  knew ;  but  it  was 
rumored  that  we  were  to  charge  the  works  in  front 


27O  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

of  our  old  position  at  Bermuda  Hundred — works 
which  once  before,  when  the  enemy  had  voluntarily 
abandoned  them,  we  could  not  hold  against  his  return; 
works  behind  which,  with  approaches  swept  by  cross- 
fire of  artillery  and  infantry,  impassable  abattis,  and 
deep  ditch,  a  brigade  might  hold  at  bay  an  army- 
corps.  .  .  . 

"  We  marched  silently  and  gloomily.  More  than 
one  man  fell  from  the  ranks  and  was  left  by  the  road- 
side, not  because  he  shrank  from  sharing  the  risk  of 
his  comrades,  but  because,  from  mere  exhaustion,  he 
was  unable  to  go  farther.  So  we  moved  slowly  along 
our  way,  until  about  half  the  distance  was  accom- 
plished ;  then  came  orders,  unexpected  as  the  first,  to 
about-face,  and  march  back  to  camp.  A  much  more 
cheerful  and  free-spoken  set  of  men  promptly  complied 
with  them ;  and  we  reached  our  quarters  again  about 
4.30  A.  M. 

"  It  was  true  that  General  Birney  had  issued  orders 
for  an  attack  upon  those  works — why  countermanded 
we  do  not  learn — and  there  was  reason  to  believe  that 
our  brigade  would  have  had  the  advance  in  the  storm- 
ing party.  Our  men,  had  they  been  led  to  the  assault, 
would  have  fought  well,  but  almost  hopelessly ;  and 
a  small  part  of  us  only  would  ever  have  left  the  field." 

In  this  expression  of  opinion,  Camp  shadowed  forth 
the  result  of  the  assault  in  which,  two  months  later, 
he  lost  his  life. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

IN  THE  PETERSBURG  TRENCHES. 

OT  long  after  the  return  of  the  column 
from  New  Market  Road  to  Deep  Bottom, 
General  Foster  left  the  latter  point  to 
assume  command  of  a  division  elsewhere, 
and  the  Third  Brigade  was  again  in  charge 
of  Colonel  Plaisted,  of  the  Eleventh  Maine.  August 
26,  this  brigade  was  relieved  by  the  colored  troops  of 
General  Paine,  and  left  Deep  Bottom  for  the  Peters- 
burg front,  where  the  Tenth  Corps  was  ordered  to 
relieve  the  Eighteenth  Corps. 

"  We  had  a  tiresome  march,"  wrote  Camp  of  that 
move.  "  It  is  about  as  fatiguing  to  ride  at  a  walk  for 
ten  or  fifteen  miles  as  to  march  the  same  distance  on 
foot.  It  was  cloudy  overhead,  muddy  underneath, 
and,  in  the  pine  woods,  pitchy  dark. 

"We  reached  the  Appomattox  about  11.15  P.  M., 
and,  after  difficulty  and  delay  in  finding  the  road  which 
led  down  to  the  pontoon,  learned,  upon  reaching  it, 
that  we  should  have  to  wait  for  the  passage  of  a 

271 


2/2  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

wagon-train.  Meantime  the  rain  came  down  in  tor- 
rents, but  we  wrapped  our  rubber  coats  about  us,  lay 
down  on  the  muddy  ground,  and  slept  soundly.  About 
one  o'clock  the  road  was  clear,  and  we  started  again. 
It  is  a  long  distance  from  one  bank  to  the  other,  the 
bridge  crossing  several  low  islands  before  high  ground 
is  reached  on  the  farther  side.  We  went  but  a  mile 
or  two  beyond ;  the  darkness,  solidified  by  blinding 
flashes  of  lightning,  making  it  impossible  to  distinguish 
the  road.  Our  bivouac  was  cheerless  enough,  though 
a  tent-fly,  thrown  over  a  couple  of  rails  which  leaned 
against  a  tree,  gave  us  such  shelter  as  few  or  none 
besides  had. 

"  Saturday  morning  was  bright  and  clear,  and  we 
marched  early.  The  country  was  very  pleasant — 
high,  rolling  ground,  sloping  down  toward  the  wind- 
ing Appomattox  ;  fortifications  everywhere ;  pleasant 
residences  not  a  few — abandoned,  of  course — beauti- 
fully shaded  by  huge  old  trees,  and  commanding  fine 
views  of  the  river  valley.  Petersburg  was  plainly  in 
sight,  during  a  part  of  the  march,  directly  in  front  of 
us,  and,  not  more  than  two  or  three  miles  distant,  its 
streets  and  houses  distinctly  to  be  seen.  Henry  and 
I  wondered  if,  with  a  good  glass,  we  couldn't  have 
picked  out  the  Bolingbroke  House,  where  we  had  each 
stopped  in  passing  through  the  place. 

"About  10  A.  M.  we  reached  the  position  assigned 
us — the  deserted  camp  of  a  negro  regiment.  I  have 
hardly  seen  so  filthy  or  repulsive  a  spot  since  I  have 


A    DANGEROUS    SPOT.  273 

been  in  the  army — everything  in  the  most  shocking 
condition  imaginable.  The  main  works  were  perhaps 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  in  front  of  us,  and  on  higher 
ground,  so  that  we  could  see  nothing  beyond.  Parallel 
to  them,  where  we  were,  a  brook  ran  through  a  shal- 
low valley.  It  was  this  stream  that  rose  so  suddenly, 
a  few  weeks  since,  as  to  drown  fourteen  men  of  the 
Eighteenth  Corps,  whose  place  we  had  now  taken. 
That  side  of  the  slope  nearest  the  front  was  full  of 
burrows  of  all  shapes  and  sizes,  some  nicely  faced  with 
logs,  some  mere  rat-holes.  One  of  the  best  of  these 
we  made  headquarters  ;  and  the  men  dug  and  built  for 
themselves  strong  shelters  on  the  level  ground  in  front 
of  us. 

"  Before  the  precise  spot  for  our  camp  had  been 
indicated,  we  halted  upon  the  plain  near  by,  and 
stacked  arms  for  dinner.  '  You  can't  stay  there,'  said 
an  officer  to  us,  '  every  one  who  stops  there  is  killed.' 
The  regiment  dined  in  peace,  however,  and  was 
marched  off  by  the  senior  captain,  the  field  and  staff 
waiting  to  finish  a  little  more  at  leisure.  By  and  by 
the  enemy's  artillery  opened.  No  shells  came  very 
near,  and  we  paid  no  special  attention  to  them.  One, 
bursting  some  rods  distant,  called  forth  a  remark ;  but 
we  had  ceased  to  speak  or  think  of  it,  when,  with  a 
fierce  whiz,  down  came  a  fragment — it  must  have  been 
thrown  high  in  air — and  buried  itself  in  the  earth  about 
six  feet  from  Henry,  and  precisely  where  Colonel  Otis 
had  been  sitting  a  few  minutes  before.  We  began  to 

18 


2/4  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

think  the  place  might  deserve  its  reputation ;  but  the 
firing  ceased  as  suddenly  as  it  had  commenced,  with 
no  more  close  shots.  .  .  . 

"  At  dusk,  artillery  reopened  on  both  sides.  Mor- 
tar-shelling at  night  is  a  beautiful  sight.  The  burning 
fuse  of  each  projectile  marks  its  course  for  the  whole 
distance  of  its  flight.  It  rises  like  a  rocket,  moving, 
apparently,  only  half  as  fast ;  sails  slowly  through  the 
sky,  sometimes  a  mile  above  the  earth,  at  the  highest 
point  of  its  enormous  curve,  and  descending,  one 
would  think  at  a  distance,  as  gently  as  a  snow-flake ; 
but  it  strikes  the  earth  with  a  concussion  which  shakes 
the  ground  for  many  yards  on  every  side,  and  explodes 
with  a  report  like  that  of  the  mortar  from  which  it 
came.  One  can  see  in  the  darkness  precisely  where 
it  is  coming ;  it  seems  as  if  a  good  ball-player  wouldn't 
find  it  a  difficult  catch;  and  there  is  no  need,  if  a 
bomb-proof  is  within  a  few  rods,  of  any  one's  being 
hit  by  the  shell  before  explosion ;  but  the  fragments 
fly  in  all  directions,  and  fly  far,  striking  sometimes,  as 
in  the  case  I  mentioned,  long  after  it  seems  as  if  all 
danger  must  be  over.  None  of  our  men  were  hurt  on 
Saturday  evening,  though  there  were  some  narrow 
escapes.  The  Seventh  New  Hampshire,  a  little  dis- 
tance to  our  left,  lost  one  killed  and  several  wounded. 
The  man  who  was  killed  was  sitting  near  the  breast- 
work, watching  the  shells.  One  came  directly  toward 
him ;  those  who  stood  near  scattered,  and  called  to 
him  to  hurry  away;  but  he  gazed  at  it  as  if  fascinated 


SHARPSHOOTING    IN   THE   TRENCHES.  2/5 

— moved  not  an  inch.  A  moment  more,  and  the  shell 
tore  him  to  fragments." 

The  weeks  which  the  Tenth  passed  before  Peters- 
burg were  weeks  of  seldom  intermitted  peril.  On  the 
picket-line,  in  the  trenches,  and  in  camp,  there  was 
constant  danger  of  death.  Rifle-bullets  were  whizzing 
past  or  striking  near  one,  wherever  he  went;  and 
rarely  a  day  passed  without  a  few  hours  of  artillery- 
firing  from  the  enemy.  Even  when  there  was  a  tacit 
truce  on  the  immediate  front,  sharpshooters  at  right 
or  left  kept  up  their  diagonal  fire;  and,  during  most  of 
the  time,  active  hostilities  prevailed  along  the  entire  line. 
The  position  of  the  Tenth  was  in  front  of  General 
Meade's  headquarters;  its  picket -duty  ranging  from 
the  opening  of  the  exploded  mine  under  Cemetery 
Hill  to  the  right  of  the  Second  Corps  line,  near  the 
Jerusalem  Plank  Road. 

"Near  the  right  of  our  line,"  wrote  Camp,  of  his 
first  tour  of  picket-duty  at  Petersburg,  "was  a  hollow, 
running  from  front  to  rear;  and  through  this,  more  or 
less,  bullets  were  flying  during  a  large  part  of  the  day, 
and  all  the  evening  and  night.  One  of  our  companies 
was  stationed  beyond  this,  and  its  position  connected 
with  the  rest  by  a  long  and  exceedingly  crooked 
covered  way.  Sometimes  for  an  hour  or  two  there 
would  be  no  firing,  and  one  would  be  tempted  to  take 
the  short  cut  aboveground ;  but  a  bullet  was  very 
apt  to  whistle  by  when  the  experiment  was  tried ;  and 
the  only  prudent  course  was  to  take  the  long  way 


2/6  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

round,  lest  the  other  should  prove  emphatically  a 
short  way  home. 

"  It  was  evident  that  rebel  sharpshooters  were  watch- 
ing this  place,  and  that  they  knew  its  every  crook  and 
turn.  The  passer  must  move  quickly,  or  his  momen- 
tary appearance  where  a  side  path  branched  off  and 
left  an  opening,  or  where  an  angle  brought  him  for  an 
instant  into  sight,  was  the  signal  for  a  bullet  too  well 
aimed  to  be  called  a  chance  shot.  Henry  and  I  con- 
vinced ourselves  of  this  before  we  had  been  long  at 
our  new  station,  and  others  had  the  same  experience." 

Some  of  the  incidents  of  the  artillery  fire  he  thus 
described : 

"They  are  shelling  us  again  here  in  camp  this  after- 
noon ;  making  pretty  good  practice,  too,  within  the 
last  few  minutes.  No  one  hit  yet.  A  shell  struck 
just  now  in  the  road,  behind  a  fellow  who  was  carry- 
ing a  pail  of  coffee.  It  was  amusing  to  see  the  cool- 
ness with  which  he  slowly  turned  round  and  took  a 
good  look  at  the  spot,  then  trudged  along  his  way, 
without  having  spilled  a  drop  of  coffee,  or  been  appar- 
ently any  more  discomposed  than  if  a  snowball  had 
struck  near  him." 

And,  of  another  date : 

"In  the  afternoon,  we  were  more  heavily  shelled 
than  at  any  time  before,  since  that  day  at  Bermuda 
Hundred ;  being  compelled  to  leave  our  tents  and  take 
shelter  in  our  bomb-proof.  The  rebel  gunners  seemed 
to 'have  our  range  as  accurately  as  if  the  ground  had 


FACING    DEATH    ALWAYS.  2// 

been  measured  for  target  practice.  Henry,  who  was 
visiting  the  men  in  their  tents,  had  his  regular  narrow 
escape, — a  shell  bursting  close  to  him,  and  the  frag- 
ments striking  everywhere,  except  where  he  stood. 
The  men  begin  to  think  he  is  bomb-proof  himself.  A 
beautiful  ricochet  shot  struck  in  the  field  behind  us: 
it  could  be  seen,  bounding  along  in  half  a  dozen  suc- 
cessive leaps  of  twenty  or  thirty  yards  each,  as  dis- 
tinctly as  if  it  had  been  a  cricket-ball.  Our  mess-tent 
was  hit,  but  not  a  man  in  camp  struck  from  first  to 
last,  wonderfully  enough.  The  Morris  Island  experi- 
ence of  our  men  is  useful  to  them  now ;  they  know 
just  when  and  how  to  cover." 

But  men  of  the  Tenth  often  were  hit.  A  sharp  cry 
at  dead  of  night  more  than  once  gave  indication  that 
some  one  had  been  wounded  while  asleep  in  his  tent; 
and  casualties  came  to  be  so  frequent,  that  officers  and 
men  moved  about  with  an  ever-present  consciousness 
that  they  might  fall  the  next  minute.  Frequently,  one 
on  stepping  from  his  tent  would  ask  his  friend  to  for- 
ward an  open  letter,  to  attend  to  an  unfinished  busi- 
ness item,  or  to  remember  some  former  request,  in 
case  he  did  not  come  in  again;  and  every  nerve  was 
kept  on  tension  by  this  sense  of  personal  peril,  during 
the  waking  hours, — hardly  quieted  even  in  sleep,  when 
the  patter  of  bullets  gave  shape  to  troubled  dreams. 

Pickets  were  relieved  only  after  nightfall,  and  there 
were  times  when  no  man  at  the  advanced  posts,  or  even 
at  the  main  works,  could  show  himself  by  daylight 


278  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

save  at  the  imminent  risk  of  his  life,  so  vigilant  and 
accurate  were  the  rebel  sharpshooters. 

"Just  before  evening,"  wrote  Camp  of  one  such  day, 
"Lieutenant  Hickerson  was  struck  in  the  face  by  a 
bullet.  He  had  seen  the  flash  of  the  rebel  rifle,  and 
stooped  long  enough,  he  thought,  for  the  bullet  to 
pass;  but  it  was  an  enormously  long  range,  and  he 
lifted  his  head  again  just  in  time  to  be  hit.  The  ball 
struck  the  upper  part  of  the  cheek-bone,  close  to  the 
eye.  Almost  spent,  it  made  only  a  flesh-wound,  pain- 
ful, but  not  dangerous.  An  inch  higher,  it  would 
have  entered  the  eye,  and  blinded  or  killed  him.  The 
vedettes  coming  in  when  relieved  at  dusk  brought  with 
them  one  of  their  number  who  had  been  mortally 
wounded  at  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning.  He  was  still 
living,  though  his  brains  were  oozing  out  of  a  bullet- 
hole  through  the  head. 

"So  sharp  had  been  the  fire,  so  positive  the  cer- 
tainty of  being  hit,  on  those  advanced  posts,  with  the 
slightest  exposure,  that  it  had  been  impossible  to 
move  him.  None  but  his  companion  in  the  same 
rifle-pit,  and  those  on  the  next  post,  to  whom  he  called 
out  the  information,  knew  until  night  that  he  had  been 
hit.  It  was  Henry  Lyman,  of  Company  K,  one  of  our 
tried  and  reliable  men.  His  companion — Bunnell,  one 
of  the  same  sort,  scout  and  sharpshooter — would  have 
done  for  him  anything  that  man  could  do ;  but  it  was 
of  no  use  to  make  an  attempt.  Think  of  him  spend- 
ing the  day  in  that  rifle-pit,  with  his  dying  friend, 


PICKET   SOCIABILITIES.  2/Q 

helpless,  unable  to  lift  his  head  without  bringing  cer- 
tain death  upon  himself!  " 

There  were  hours  of  sociability  between  the  Peters- 
burg pickets,  in  the  intermissions  of  firing  at  one  point 
or  another.  In  a  cornfield  between  the  lines  in  front 
of  the  Third  Brigade,  they  sometimes  met  for  a  friendly 
chat,  or  to  barter,  or  for  a  game  at  cards.  One  after- 
noon, while  the  Tenth  was  on  picket,  after  an  hour  of 
lively  shelling  and  some  musketry  firing,  there  was  a 
rest  from  active  hostilities.  Then  a  rebel  soldier 
showed  himself  on  the  parapet  of  his  works,  and, 
shaking  a  newspaper  as  a  sign  of  truce,  sprang  over 
into  the  cornfield.  At  once  a  hundred  men  from 
either  side  were  over  their  lines  and  side  by  side,  ex- 
changing papers  and  coffee  and  tobacco,  and  renewing 
old  acquaintances,  or  forming  new  ones.  Old  school- 
mates and  fellow-townsmen  were,  in  several  instances, 
found  over  against  each  other.  When,  after  a  half- 
hour  of  this  friendly  intercourse,  fire  was  opened  from 
one  of  the  batteries,  over  the  heads  of  the  cornfield 
party,  officers  and  men  hurried  back  to  their  lines 
again,  and  hostilities  were  active  as  before. 

"For  my  own  part,"  wrote  Camp  of  these  times  of 
truce,  "I  have  an  uncomfortable  sensation  when  I'm 
in  a  situation  where  my  safety  depends  on  the  good 
faith  and  fairness  of  rebels.  Our  Morris  Island  experi- 
ence was  one  not  readily  to  be  forgotten  ;  and  I  sha'n't 
be  likely  to  lead  them  again  into  any  unnecessary 
temptation." 


28O  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

Here  is  an  extract  from  another  letter,  written  when 
no  truce  existed : 

"I  have  just  been  out  to  watch  the  sharpshooting. 
There  is  no  longer  any  truce  opposite  our  position, 
and  one  cannot  safely  raise  his  head  above  the  parapet. 
I  watched  for  some  time  the  shots  which  our  boys 
made  at  a  rebel  who  had  a  capital  position  from  which 
to  fire,  and  made  good  use  of  it.  His  head  only  was 
to  be  seen,  and  that  seldom.  Half  a  dozen  of  our 
men  would  take  aim  at  the  aperture  where  he  ap- 
peared; and  one,  with  a  field-glass,  would  give  notice 
when  to  fire.  Then  the  dust  would  fly  all  about  the 
place,  and  he  wouldn't  come  in  sight  again  for  some 
minutes.  When  I  left  the  trenches  to  return  here  to 
our  bomb-proof,  he  seemed  to  have  left  his  post ; 
whether  hit,  or  only  having  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  it  was  too  dangerous  a  place,  we  couldn't  tell.  It 
was  too  long  range  for  accurate  shooting  with  ordinary 
rifles, — some  five  hundred  yards  between  the  main 
works,  which,  at  this  point,  are  widely  divergent. 

"  The  rebels  have  a  few  sharpshooters  with  Whit- 
worth  rifles,  who  are  dangerous  fellows  to  be  seen  by. 
One  of  our  men  this  morning  had  his  hair  lifted  by  a 
bullet,  fired,  like  many  others,  through  one  of  the 
apertures  of  the  parapet :  another's  face  was  grazed. 
As  Colonel  Plaisted  and  I  were  standing  close  to  the 
parapet,  a  bullet  struck  it  just  in  front  of  us,  and  so 
near  the  top  as  to  throw  the  dirt  over  us.  As  I  was 
coming  up  the  hill  toward  our  bomb-proof,  another — 


IN   THE   LINE   OF   FIRE.  28 1 

chance,  I  think,  for  I  could  hardly  have  been  in  sight 
— passed  before  my  face  so  close  that  I  involuntarily 
threw  back  my  head,  feeling  the  wind  of  it,  or  fancy- 
ing I  did,  as  it  went  by.  They  are  constantly  whizzing 
by  our  splinter-proof.  Our  orderly,  who  occupies  a 
smaller  one  near  by,  said  that  he  saw  three  strike  ours 
within  a  few  minutes.  I  presume  many  are  buried  in 
it.  Down  in  the  ravine,  there  is  a  tree  in  whose  trunk 
over  two  hundred  bullet-marks  have  been  counted ; 
and  there  are  probably  twice  as  many,  if  it  could  be 
carefully  examined.  Within  the  last  half-hour  a  rebel 
battery  has  opened  upon  one  of  ours  a  little  to  our 
rear,  which  answers  vigorously.  We  are  directly 
under  the  line  of  fire,  and  are  in  hopes  that  neither 
side — 

"(Well,  they  did,  just  that  minute;  fired  low,  our 
own  side;  struck  the  earth  between  themselves  and  us, 
ricochetting  overhead,  but  a  little  to  the  left.  Awkward 
experiment! — don't  want  'em  to  try  it  again.  The 
first  rebel  shot  passed  very  near  us, — too  low  for  the 
battery  at  which  it  was  aimed :  they  are  doing  better 
now.  Still,  if  the  rebel  gunner  should  depress  the 
muzzle  of  his  piece  a  quarter  of  an  inch,  it  would 
probably  finish  us.  It  is  a  sixty-four  pounder,  and 
one  of  its  balls  would  knock  our  splinter-proof  into  a 
cocked  hat,  and  bury  us  under  the  ruins.  I  hear  now 
that  the  same  man  who  had  the  bullet  through  his 
hair  a  little  while  ago  has  been  hit  in  the  arm ;  noth- 
ing very  serious,  though  it  will  lay  him  up  for  a  few 


282  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

days.  Henry  has  been  down  to  the  Twenty-fourth 
camp  to  bury  a  man  killed  yesterday.  I  was  anxious 
about  him,  going  and  returning;  for  bullets  fly  thick 
along  the  whole  way;  and  just  in  rear  of  our  bomb- 
proof here,  is  one  of  the  worst  places  within  a  mile. 
Something  of  a  parenthesis  I  have  made  of  it,  haven't 

I?)- 

Of  the  Sunday  night  after  the  news  came  of  Sher- 
man's capture  of  Atlanta,  Camp  wrote : 

"We  lay  down  early,  and  slept  quietly  until  mid- 
night. Then  suddenly  broke  forth  such  a  cannonade 
as  we  had  heard  only  once  before  in  all  our  experi- 
ence,— the  evening  of  the  attack  on  Wagner.  We 
rose,  and  looked  around :  our  whole  line  was  lit  up 
by  the  flash  of  the  guns,  and  the  roar  was  incessant. 
The  rebels  answered,  though  with  a  fire  of  by  no 
means  equal  intensity  ;  and  the  sight  was  a  mag- 
nificent one, — the  blazing  shells  cutting  the  sky  in 
every  direction,  bursting  sometimes  at  the  very  sum- 
mit of  their  curve,  and  flashing  the  red  glare  of  their 
explosion  on  all  beneath.  Impressive  pyrotechny! 
What  it  all  meant  we  were  at  a  loss  to  understand. 
There  were  no  signs  of  an  attack  by  either  party  ;  and 
when,  after  half  an  hour  or  so,  the  exhibition  closed 
without  any  apparent  results,  we  went  back  to  our 
blankets  more  mystified  than  ever.  Next  day  we 
learned  that  it  was  a  salute  for  the  fall  of  Atlanta. 
Thirty-six  midnight  guns  from  each  battery ;  and,  not 
to  waste  ammunition,  the  guns  were  shotted,  and 


A   SHOTTED   SALUTE.  283 

Petersburg  and  its  fortifications  given  the  benefit  of 
them.  The  whole  thing  must  have  been  gratifying  to 
our  friends  opposite.  During  the  whole  time,  the 
bands  were  playing  national  airs, — the  music,  of 
course,  adding  materially  to  the  effect." 

Of  the  shotted  salute  with  which  the  rebels  greeted 
the  passage  of  trains  over  General  Grant's  railroad 
from  City  Point  to  Meade's  extreme  left,  Camp  wrote: 

"In  the  afternoon,  we  stood  for  a  while  watching 
the  rebel  artillery  practice  on  our  railroad  train. 
Nearly  opposite  our  camp  is  a  place  where  the  new 
military  road  toward  Warren's  position  passes  in  plain 
sight  of  the  rebel  works,  and  within  range  of  rifled 
guns,  though  nearly  a  mile  to  our  rear.  They  fire 
frequently  at  the  cars,  and  have  made  some  capital 
shots,  though  never  yet  hitting  them.  We  can  hear 
the  bolt  hum  through  the  air  overhead,  and  have 
plenty  of  time  to  step  out  of  the  tent  and  look  toward 
the  train  before  it  strikes.  Of  late,  our  guns  have 
opened  on  the  rebel  battery  every  time  a  train  ap- 
proached; but  they  can't  prevent  the  one  shot  which 
comes  almost  as  regularly  as  the  train  passes.  The 
range  is  probably  a  mile  and  a  half;  and  the  shooting 
has  been  accurate  at  a  moving  object, — a  pretty  dif- 
ficult job." 

In  one  of  Camp's  letters  from  the  Petersburg  front 
is  found  almost  the  only  expression  of  wearisomeness 
in  his  work  which  escaped  him  from  the  hour  he 
entered  service  until  his  death.  It  gives  evidence  of 


284  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

the  terrible  pressure   of  the  prolonged  and  bloody 
campaign  of  1864,  even  on  the  bravest  and  truest. 

"The  activity  of  this  life  has  intense  pleasure,"  he 
wrote  ;  "  but  it  has  weariness  too.  The  strain  of  ex- 
citement and  of  anxiety,  the  wear  and  tear  of  such 
work  as  ours,  begin  to  tell  upon  me.  Not  that  I  am 
breaking  down  under  it,  or  ready  to  abandon  the  task 
which  must  be  accomplished,  or  even  that  I  would 
return  to  such  play-day,  pleasant  soldiering  as  our 
occupation  of  New-Berne.  But  I  am  beginning  to 
long  for  the  end  on  personal  as  well  as  patriotic 
grounds.  I  used  to  feel  differently,  you  know.  Home 
would  seem  very  attractive  to  me  now,  rest  very 
pleasant,  could  I  feel  that  my  place  was  anywhere  else 
than  here,  my  work  any  other  than  this.  Perhaps  I 
should  be  restless  and  uneasy  away  from  excitement. 
I  certainly  should  while  the  war  lasts ;  but,  when 
peace  comes,  I  think  I  shall  be  ready  (if  I  am  alive 
then)  for  at  least  a  few  months  of  quiet.  There  was 
none  in  prison-life, — less  even  than  now;  and  the  time 
since  I  last  knew  what  it  meant  begins  to  seem  long." 

It  was  soon  after  the  Tenth  went  to  Petersburg  that 
Camp  received  from  Governor  Buckingham  his  well- 
deserved  commission  as  major  of  the  regiment.  The 
number  of  men  on  the  rolls  of  the  Tenth  being  below 
the  standard  required  for  three  field-officers,  there  was 
some  delay  in  Camp's  muster  in;  but  General  Butler, 
being  made  acquainted  with  the  facts,  issued  a  special 


A    WELCOME    REST.  285 

order  directing  his  muster,  as  demanded  by  the  neces- 
sities of  the  service;  and  on  September  25,  being  duly 
qualified,  he  assumed  the  duties  of  his  new  position. 

Saturday  afternoon,  September  24,  brought  orders 
to  the  Tenth  Corps  to  be  ready,  that  night,  to  be  re- 
lieved by  the  Second  Corps, — a  portion  of  which  had 
been  some  time  in  reserve  in  the  rear  of  the  line  at 
the  left  of  the  Tenth.  Preparations  were  hastily  made ; 
and,  at  midnight,  the  troops  of  the  corps  were  with- 
drawn to  the  level  ground  in  the  rear  of  General 
Birney's  headquarters.  There  was  a  halt,  and  a  delay 
of  several  days ;  the  time  being  occupied  in  drilling, 
and  in  parades, — a  service  almost  unknown  since  the 
campaign  opened  in  May.  It  was  with  a  restful  feel- 
ing that  the  tired  troops  found  themselves  out  of  reach 
of  the  enemy's  guns,  and  permitted  to  move  about 
without  expecting  momentarily  the  hiss  of  a  bullet  or 
the  whiz  of  a  shell.  The  rest  was  needed,  in  view  of 
both  what  had  gone  before,  and  what  was  so  soon  to 
come. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

LIFE  AND  DEATH  BEFORE  RICHMOND. 

;  OON  after  noon  of  Wednesday,  September 
28,  the  Tenth  Corps  was  again  in  motion. 
From  its  camping-ground  before  Peters- 
burg it  moved  hurriedly,  yet  with  the 
tedious  slowness  inevitable  to  any  long 
column,  toward  the  Appomattox,  over  the  pontoon  at 
Broadway  Landing,  across  the  Bermuda  Hundred  Pe- 
ninsula, and  to  the  north  bank  of  the  James,  from  the 
Jones's  Neck  pontoon  to  Deep  Bottom. 

The  Tenth  Regiment  had  commenced  its  march 
soon  after  3  P.  M.  It  was  2.30  A.  M.  when  it  halted 
at  Deep  Bottom;  and  those  of  its  heavily  laden  men 
who  had  not  fallen  out  exhausted  by  the  way  dropped, 
footsore  and  weary,  on  the  wet  grass  of  the  familiar 
ground,  where,  before,  they  had  camped  and  picketed, 
and  stood  fire  and  fought,  and  buried  their  dead,  and 
from  which,  a  month  previous,  they  had  gone  out  with 
no  thought  of  a  return. 

As  they  lay  down,  word  came  to   them  that  they 
286 


BATTLE    OF    NEW    MARKET    HEIGHTS.  28/ 

must  move  again,  in  light  marching  order,  at  4  A.M.; 
and  to  move  was  to  fight,  where  the  enemy  held  his 
lines  as  closely  as  about  Deep  Bottom.  With  such  an 
announcement,  but  little  of  rest  was  secured  in  the 
single  hour  allowed  them  for  sleep;  and  it  required 
true  moral  courage  to  lift  men  up  when  the  line  was 
formed  in  the  darkness  of  the  early  morning,  and  to 
carry  them  forward  in  the  hurried  march  to  the  very 
front  where  so  many  of  their  comrades  had  fallen  on 
that  remembered  Sunday  of  battle  in  August. 

But  the  morning  move  was  less  bloody  to  the  Third 
Brigade  than  was  anticipated.  The  Eighteenth  Corps, 
having  crossed  the  river  at  Varina  Landing,  made 
a  successful  advance  against  the  strong  works  at 
Chaffin's  Bluff,  while  the  colored  troops  of  the  Tenth 
Corps  pushed  out  beyond  the  Grover  House,  driving 
the  enemy,  and  causing  him  to  fall  back  from  before 
the  front  of  Colonel  Plaisted's  brigade,  which  advanced 
on  the  extreme  right  along  the  bank  of  Four  Mile 
Creek,  until  the  entire  fortifications  on  and  about  New 
Market  Heights  were  carried.  For  several  hours,  the 
victorious  lines  pressed  steadily  on,  driving  all  before 
them.  Only  Fort  Gilmer  checked  the  advance  in  any 
direction.  General  Terry's  division,  including  the 
Tenth  Regiment,  moved,  during  the  afternoon,  up 
the  Central  or  Darbytown  Road  toward  Richmond; 
the  head  of  the  column  reaching  a  point  within  three 
miles  of  the  city, — of  which  the  roofs  and  spires  were 
in  full  view.  For  a  time,  it  seemed  as  if  the  Con- 


288  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

federate  capital  was  to  fall  into  Federal  hands  without 
further  delay ;  but  the  hour  for  that  event  had  not  yet 
arrived.  The  advance  fell  back  at  nightfall  to  the  new 
line  established  by  the  Tenth  and  Eighteenth  Corps, 
where  intrenching  was  already  going  on  rapidly. 

The  next  few  days  were  days  of  activity  and  of 
privation.  The  enemy  made  several  attempts  to  re- 
take his  lost  works  at  Chaffin's  Bluff,  and  to  drive  back 
General  Terry's  lines  near  the  New  Market  Road. 
The  troops  stood  to  arms  much  of  the  time,  and  were 
frequently  under  fire.  The  officers  of  the  Tenth  Regi- 
ment had  left  all  their  baggage,  even  their  blankets,  at 
Deep  Bottom,  on  Thursday  morning ;  and  the  field 
and  staff  had  come  forward  without  their  horses. 
Thursday  night  was  cloudy;  but  no  rain  fell.  On 
Friday  it  began  to  rain  severely.  Without  shelter  of 
any  kind,  and  no  bed  save  the  soft  clay  of  the  traveled 
road,  but  comfortless  sleep  was  secured  during  the 
drenching  storm  of  the  following  night;  and  Saturday 
morning,  when  it  came,  gave  only  the  opportunity  to 
rise  up,  and  take  the  rain  perpendicularly  instead  of 
horizontally. 

Of  a  bold  move  by  the  Tenth,  on  the  afternoon  of 
that  day,  up  the  New  Market  Road  to  Laurel  Hill, 
unsupported  on  either  flank,  Camp  wrote  as  follows : 

"On  Saturday  afternoon  our  regiment  was  ordered 
out  alone  to  make  a  diversion  in  favor  of  General 
Terry,  who,  with  two  brigades,  was  demonstrating 
upon  the  rebel  lines  farther  to  our  right.  It  was  still 


A    DELIGHTED    PRISONER.  289 

raining,  as  it  had  been  all  day,  and  the  mud  was  be- 
yond description.  All  of  us  footed  it.  Passing  by 
the  picket-line,  we  halted  where  the  road  ran  through 
thick  woods,  and  threw  forward  skirmishers.  They 
speedily  came  upon  the  enemy's  vedettes.  We  heard 
the  cry  of  '  Halt,  halt ! '  followed  by  a  dozen  shots ; 
and  presently  a  prisoner  came  back,  one  of  our  men 
hurrying  him  down  the  road  at  a  double-quick.  Two 
others  had  succeeded,  although  fired  upon,  in  making 
their  escape.  The  only  anxiety  our  chap  seemed  to 
feel  was  to  be  taken  out  of  the  way  of  any  farther 
fighting.  He  was  afraid,  perhaps,  of  being  recaptured. 

"  Colonel  Otis  now  went  forward  to  the  skirmish- 
line.  Henry  went  up  to  a  house  near  which  the  cap- 
tured vedette  had  been  posted.  I,  of  course,  had  to 
remain  with  the  regiment.  In  the  house  were  some 
poor,  sadly  frightened  women,  whom  he,  as  far  as 
possible,  reassured,  and  to  whom  he  returned  a  few 
minutes  later  with  hard-bread  (for  they  said  it  was 
very  difficult  to  obtain  food) ;  and  afterward  the  colonel 
sent  them  some  coffee,  a  luxury  to  which  they  had 
been  long  unaccustomed.  The  division  officer  of  the 
day  [Major  Randlett  of  the  Third  New  Hampshire] 
speaking  of  a  good  position  near  this  house,  I  moved 
the  regiment  forward,  and  occupied  it;  and,  Colonel 
Otis  soon  returning,  the  skirmish-line  was  strength- 
ened and  still  farther  advanced. 

"Presently  our  men  reported  themselves  flanked 
upon  the  left,  and  a  cross-fire  poured  upon  them. 

19 


THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 


Sergeant  Williams  was  shot  through  the  small  of  the 
back,  the  bullet  grazing  the  spine  and  inflicting  a 
mortal  wound.  A  private  of  the  same  name  was  shot 
through  both  thighs.  These  men  were  brought  back 
upon  stretchers,  attended  by  Dr.  Hart  on  the  spot,  and 
sent  away  to  the  field-hospital.  A  wounded  rebel, 
left  by  his  comrades  in  their  retreat,  was  also  brought 
in,  moaning  and  groaning  most  piteously,  even  when 
treated  with  all  possible  kindness,  and  assured  that  he 
would  be  well  cared  for.  Our  men  had  not  uttered  a 
sound  in  their  pain:  it  is  rare  that  a  wounded  man 
does.  This  one  claimed  to  be  a  Union  man,  forced 
against  his  will  into  the  ranks,  attempting  to  join  us 
when  he  was  shot;  said  that  papers  in  his  pocket- 
book  would  prove  it.  So  Henry  opened  it  for  him, 
and  there,  tucked  away  in  an  inner  pocket,  was  a 
little  woodcut  of  the  American  flag,  and  a  cautiously 
worded  statement  that  -  was  reliable,  and  might  be 
trusted  by  any  friend  of  the  subscriber,  signed  by  one 
whom  inquiry  showed  to  be  a  known  friend  of  our 
Government.  Henry  went  down  to  General  Butler's 
in  the  evening  to  see  about  it  ;  and,  the  poor  fellow's 
statement  proving  true,  he  is  well  cared  for.  Hosts 
of  such  men  are  fighting  us  on  just  such  compulsion 
as  brought  this  man  to  it. 

"  Company  K  was  sent  out  to  drive  back  the  enemy 
on  our  flank:  they  did  it,  and  we  sustained  no  more 
loss.  Reaching  a  good  position  for  the  purpose,  and 
having  moved  forward  quite  as  far  as  was  prudent, 


OLD   SOLDIERS    GOING    HOME.  29! 

considering  that  we  were  entirely  without  support, 
and  that  a  force  of  the  enemy  could  be  seen  pushing 
toward  the  right,  where  they  could  flank  us  more 
safely  than  on  the  left,  we  halted,  and  waited  for  dark ; 
keeping  up  a  continual  skirmish-fire  with  the  enemy, 
who  occupied  the  crest  of  a  little  slope  just  in  front 
At  dusk,  I  went  up  to  the  line,  withdrew  it,  and,  re- 
turning to  the  reserve,  we  marched  into  camp. 

"  We  had  in  this  affair  but  one  line  officer  [Lieu- 
tenant Benjamin  Wright]  with  the  regiment;  the  rest 
being  absent,  sick,  or  excused.  But  our  men  can't  be 
prevented  from  fighting  well  when  they  are  once  sent 
forward,  with  orders  or  without.  They  know  what's 
wanted,  and  have  such  an  inveterate  habit  of  removing 
anything  that  stands  in  the  way,  that  it  would  be  hard 
to  break  'em  of  it  Colonel  Plaisted  is  enthusiastic 
about  the  regiment,  and  never  fails  to  speak  well  of  us 
in  his  reports." 

On  Monday,  October  3,  upwards  of  one  hundred  of 
the  old  men  of  the  Tenth,  whose  term  of  service  had 
expired,  left  the  regiment  for  their  homes, — several  of 
their  officers  accompanying  them.  This  seriously  re- 
duced the  battalion,  and  increased  the  pressure  of  duty 
upon  the  few  remaining  officers.  Camp  was  on  Wednes- 
day division  officer  of  the  day,  having  an  oversight 
of  the  picket-line  on  either  side  of  the  New  Market 
Road,  and  receiving  a  flag  of  truce  borne  by  Major 
Wood  and  other  rebel  officers,  with  letters  for  Lieu- 
tenant-Colonel Mulford. 


292  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

On  Thursday,  Colonel  Otis  being  corps  officer  of 
the  day,  Camp  was  in  command  of  the  regiment,  which 
was  that  day  paid  for  four  months'  service  by  Major 
Holmes.  In  the  evening,  a  wayside  prayer-meeting 
was  held  by  a  blazing  camp-fire.  Although  the  day 
had  been  a  busy  one,  and  special  duties  devolved  on 
him,  Major  Camp  was  present  at  that  gathering  for 
worship;  and  the  pleasant  tones  of  his  inspiring  voice 
were  heard  in  prayer,  as  so  often  before,  but  as  never 
again,  in  the  presence  of  the  regiment. 

Deserters  from  the  enemy  had  announced  an  attack 
as  contemplated  for  Friday  morning  (October  7),  and 
arrangements  were  made  to  receive  it.  Yet  so  many 
announcements  of  the  kind  had  proved  incorrect,  that 
few  anticipated  trouble,  even  while  they  faithfully 
obeyed  the  orders  received ;  and  when,  after  a  night 
of  vigilance,  the  morning  came  with  no  disturbance, 
there  was  many  a  joke  cracked  over  the  last  needless 
scare.  But  about  8  A.M.,  sharp  firing  was  heard  over 
at  the  extreme  right,  soon  followed  by  orders  to  be 
ready  to  move  in  heavy  marching  order.  The  firing 
increased;  artillery  and  musketry  were  heard, — all 
in  the  direction  of  General  Kautz's  cavalry  position. 
Flying  horsemen  were  seen  coming  in  from  the  right, 
through  the  swamps  and  thickets,  in  wild  disorder. 
The  command  came  to  move  rapidly  down  the  road 
toward  the  rear. 

All  seemed  to  indicate  a  retreat.  The  camps  and 
breastworks  were  being  deserted,  and  the  road  was 


SIGNS    OF    RETREAT.  2Q3 

already  thronged  with  retiring  columns  of  cavalry, 
infantry,  and  artillery;  while  ambulances  and  baggage- 
wagons  disputed  progress  with  the  mass  of  moving 
men;  and  along  either  side  of  the  way  hurried  cooks 
with  their  knapsacks  on  their  backs,  and  huge  coffee- 
kettles  swung  on  poles  between  them;  invalids  limp- 
ing as  rapidly  as  their  feeble  limbs  would  bear  them ; 
officers'  servants  "toting"  heavy  loads  of  personal 
baggage ;  surgeons  driving  their  patients  before  them, 
or  starting  up  those  who  were  already  dropping  with 
exhaustion ;  sutlers'  clerks  and  runners  with  their 
extra  supply  of  "truck,"  brought  up  in  view  of  the 
recent  pay-day;  and  shirks  and  cowards  pushing 
ahead  of  their  regiments,  on  one  plea  or  another,  as 
they  fall  behind  on  an  advance. 

Officers  and  men  exchanged  disturbed,  distrustful 
looks,  as  only  on  a  retreat,  when  trouble  is  anticipated, 
and  there  is  chagrin  at  apparent  failure.  But  no  re- 
treat was  really  contemplated.  The  right  flank  of 
Major -General  Birney's  fortified  position,  held  by 
General  Kautz,  had  been  turned,  with  a  considerable 
loss  to  the  latter  of  men  and  guns ;  and  the  enemy,  in 
strong  force,  was  now  pressing  down  to  follow  up  the 
advantage  he  had  gained.  General  Birney  had  with- 
drawn troops  from  the  left  to  enable  him  to  form  a 
new  line  of  defense  at  right  angles  to  his  works,  and 
thus  resist  the  progress  of  the  enemy.  General  Terry's 
division  had  been  selected  for  this  duty ;  and  Colonel 
Plaisted's  brigade  was  merely  being  sent  down  the 


294  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

road  to  the  right  of  the  new  line.  Reaching  the  Cox 
Farm  road,  this  brigade  deployed,  and  moved  for- 
ward en  echelon,  connecting  on  the  left  with  Hawley's 
brigade.  Camp's  description  of  the  battle  continues 
from  this  point. 

"  Heavy  firing  was  going  on  in  the  direction  of  the 
place  we  had  left,  —  principally  artillery;  while  the 
almost  continuous  roar  of  musketry  nearer,  and  upon 
our  left  as  we  stood,  seemed  to  show  that  the  rebels 
were  feeling  for  the  end  of  our  line, — each  successive 
attack  coming  nearer  and  nearer.  When  the  brigade 
next  us  became  engaged,  including  the  Seventh  Con- 
necticut, with  its  seven-shooting  rifles,  the  crash  was  be- 
yond anything  I  had  ever  heard.  We  shook  our  heads 
as  we  listened :  ammunition  could  hold  out  but  very 
few  minutes  at  that  rate;  and  we  knew  that,  as  always, 
nine  shots  out  often  must  be  wasted.  Yet,  as  it  after- 
ward proved,  that  tenth  shot  did  fearful  execution. 

"We  hadn't  long  to  wait  and  comment.  A  rattling 
volley  in  our  own  front  showed  that  the  skirmishers 
were  engaged;  and,  in  a  moment  more,  they  came 
hurrying  back  through  the  dense  pine-woods  before 
us, — the  rebels  close  upon  them.  (These  were  not 
our  own  men,  who  had  been  left  far  to  the  right  when 
the  main  body  of  the  regiment  last  moved.)  There 
was  a  brief  delay  while  they  were  gaining  a  place  of 
safety.  One  poor  fellow  staggered  toward  where  I 
stood,  the  blood  pouring  down  his  face  from  a  wound 
just  received.  He  was  behind  the  rest;  perhaps  he 


FLANKED    BUT    NOT    FRIGHTENED.  295 

could  not  move  as  fast  as  they.  We  would  have 
waited  longer,  but  could  not.  While  the  bullets  of 
the  rebel  skirmishers  flew  among  us,  their  main  body 
was  forming  line  just  behind  for  the  attack, — their  feet 
plainly  to  be  seen  beneath  the  low-growing  foliage, 
which  concealed  their  bodies  as  they  dressed  their 
ranks.  It  was  no  time  to  stop  for  one  man's  life, 
whether  friend  or  foe :  our  line  opened  fire,  and  he 
dropped.  Probably  it  was  only  to  avoid  as  much  as 
possible  this  new  danger.  I  do  not  think  he  was  hit ; 
but  I  did  not  see  him  again,  and,  looking  for  him 
after  the  fight  was  over,  he  was  gone. 

"  The  rebels  opened  in  return,  and  the  bullets  flew 
fast.  Colonel  Otis  stood  near  the  right  of  the  line,  I 
at  the  left.  We  had  hardly  a  hundred  men  in  the 
ranks;  and  the  regiment  looked  like  a  single  com- 
pany, with  a  captain  and  lieutenant  to  manage  it. 
The  men  needed  little  in  the  line  of  orders  or  instruc- 
tion,— they  knew  just  what  to  do,  and  did  it.  At  the 
first  fire,  the  regiment  on  our  right  turned  and  ran. 
Our  men  saw  it ;  knew  that  their  flank  was  now  ex- 
posed, nothing  there  to  hinder  the  immediate  advance 
of  the  enemy.  Nothing  is  so  apt  to  strike  men  with 
panic.  Our  men  paid  no  other  attention  to  it  than  to 
give  a  rousing  cheer,  just  to  show  the  enemy  that  they 
had  no  thought  of  giving  ground,  then  turn  steadily 
to  their  work.  Each  man  stood  fast.  Where  a  com- 
rade fell,  they  gave  him  room  to  lie, — no  more.  There 
was  no  random  firing  in  air,  but  rapid  loading,  cool 


296  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

aim,  and  shots  that  told.  It  was  good  to  see  such 
fighting.  Those  whom  we  met  were  no  raw  recruits. 
They  fought  well.  For  a  while,  though  unable  to  ad- 
vance, they  stood  their  ground.  Broken  once,  they 
rallied  again  at  the  appeal  of  their  officers,  and  once 
more  tried  to  move  forward  through  the  fire  that 
mowed  them  down.  It  was  of  no  use :  again  thrown 
into  confusion,  they  fell  back,  leaving  their  dead  and 
wounded  upon  the  field.  Among  the  former  was  a 
captain,  said  to  have  been  in  command  of  the  regi- 
ment; while  opposite  other  parts  of  our  division-line 
lay  officers  of  different  ranks  among  the  bodies  of 
their  men.  Surgeons  said  that  they  attended  as  many 
rebel  as  Union  soldiers ;  and  when  it  is  considered 
how  many  must  have  been  carried  away,  or  hobbled 
off  themselves,  the  total  rebel  loss  must  have  been 
very  heavy.  It  is  said  that  among  them  were  two 
generals, — one  killed  and  one  wounded. 

"  There  is  no  doubt  that  they  had  at  least  two 
divisions, —  Field's  and  Hoke's,  —  probably  more. 
Prisoners  reported  Lee  in  person  superintending  the 
movement.  A  woman  at  a  house  close  by  speaks  of 
meeting  him  there,  and  describes  his  appearance. 
Possibly  it  was  so.  Two  rebels  who  gave  themselves 
up  voluntarily  to  one  of  our  men  just  after  the  fight 
told  us  that  the  woods  were  full  of  others  who  were 
anxious  to  come  in,  but  who  feared  to  attempt  it,  lest 
they  should  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  negro  troops, 
who,  they  believed,  would  give  them  no  quarter. 


THE    LAST    HOME    LETTER. 


"Although  our  loss  was  not  large,  the  affair  was, 
while  it  lasted,  a  very  brisk  one.  Our  fighting  hitherto 
has  been  almost  exclusively  skirmishing.  It  was  the 
first  time  since  I  have  rejoined  the  regiment  that  simul- 
taneous fire  has  been  opened  by  the  companies  of  the 
battalion-line.  We  have  seldom  had  an  opportunity 
to  stand  and  receive  an  enemy;  and  even  now,  we  had 
to  leave  our  intrenched  position,  and  meet  them  with- 
out any  advantages  of  defense.  But  we  are  well  con- 
tent with  even  terms,  and  would  ask  nothing  better 
than  to  have  them  always.  Now,  if  we  could  only 
have  a  full  regiment  of  men  like  this  handful  left  to 
us!  —  there's  nothing  which  we  shouldn't  feel  as  if  we 
could  do.  The  three  New  England  regiments  of  our 
brigade  are  as  good  men  as  ever  fought. 

"Deserters  reported  that  Lee  was  coming  down 
on  us  again  this  morning,  this  time  with  three  army 
corps;  but  he  didn't  make  his  appearance.  The  rumor 
now  is  that  he  only  postponed  operations  twenty-four 
hours,  and  will  certainly  attack  at  daylight  to-morrow. 
I  don't  believe,  now  that  we  are  ready  for  him,  that 
he'll  give  us  a  chance  to  fight  him  behind  works. 
Still,  he  may  find  a  weak  spot  somewhere  between 
here  and  Deep  Bottom.  As  the  mail  doesn't  go  until 
to-morrow  afternoon,  perhaps  I  shall  tell  you  about  it 
in  a  postscript,  or  somebody  else  may." 

Camp  never  finished  another  home  letter.  In  this, 
he  failed  to  tell  of  himself  as  he  appeared  to  others  in 
that  hour  of  sharp  conflict.  Calmly  and  quietly  he 


298  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

moved  along  the  battle-line  while  the  fight  raged 
fiercest,  saying  firm  and  encouraging  words  to  the 
brave  men  before  him,  pointing  with  his  sword  in  the 
direction  whence  the  enemy's  fire  was  sharpest,  and 
enjoining  a  low  and  well-aimed  return-fire  as  coolly  as 
he  would  have  superintended  harmless  target-practice. 
Hidden  once  or  twice,  in  the  dense  smoke,  from  the 
friend  who  watched  him  with  intent  and  anxious  gaze, 
it  seemed  for  a  few  burdened  seconds  as  if  he  also  had 
fallen;  but  while  the  breath  of  the  watcher  was  stayed, 
and  the  heart  suspended  its  throbs,  again  his  flashing 
sword  was  seen  through  the  rifted  smoke-cloud,  and 
his  form  stood  erect  and  noble  as  before.  And,  when 
the  firing  ceased,  his  face  showed  no  flush  of  excite- 
ment, his  voice  betrayed  no  unusual  emotion  :  his  only 
impulse  was  to  thank  God  for  victory,  and  to  bless  the 
brave  boys  whose  unflinching  steadiness  had  won  it. 

The  next  few  days  after  the  battle  of  October  7  were 
occupied  by  the  troops  of  Terry's  division  in  finishing 
breastworks  along  the  new  front  they  had  so  nobly 
defended.  On  the  evening  of  the  following  Sabbath, 
Camp  attended  a  preaching  service  at  the  regimental 
bivouac.  On  Tuesday  morning,  he  deposited  with 
the  commissioners  appointed  to  receive  the  votes  of 
Connecticut  soldiers  in  the  field  his  second  vote  for 
Abraham  Lincoln  as  President, — a  vote  which  was 
never  counted  at  home,  because  of  his  death  prior  to 
the  day  of  election. 

Soon  after  noon  of  Thursday,  October   12,  orders 


A    NEW    MOVEMENT.  299 

were  received  for  the  regiment  to  move  at  once  in 
light  marching  order.  At  half-past  four  it  left  camp, 
and,  with  the  remainder  of  its  brigade,  passed  out, 
through  a  sally-port  of  the  works,  near  the  New 
Market  Road.  The  whole  of  the  First  Division,  tem- 
porarily commanded  by  General  Ames,  —  General 
Terry  being  in  command  of  the  corps, — was  in  mo- 
tion. On  the  broad  fields  of  the  Cox  Farm  there  was 
a  halt,  the  three  brigades  resting  in  successive  lines 
of  battle.  Rain  began  to  fall,  and  the  afternoon 
proved  dreary.  General  Ames  and  staff,  and  the 
brigade  commanders,  sat  or  stood  on  the  piazza  of 
the  plantation  house,  while  regimental  and  company 
officers  gathered  in  little  knots,  chattering  in  the  dis- 
mal storm  ;  and  the  men  lolled  on  the  wet  grass,  talk- 
ing and  laughing  as  merrily  as  though  they  had  no 
wish  for  better  quarters. 

Major  Camp  and  his  friend  joined  Colonel  Rockwell 
of  the  Sixth  Connecticut;  and  the  three  indulged  in 
natural  conjectures  as  to  the  purpose  and  probable 
results  of  the  new  and  sudden  move.  Looking  about 
them,  they  spoke  of  how  many  now  in  careless  ease 
were  unlikely  to  see  the  termination  of  this  advance; 
and  in  a  serious  strain  they  referred  to  the  trials  and 
anxieties  of  the  prolonged  campaign,  while  they  did 
not  forget  to  exchange  cheerful  words,  and  to  en- 
courage one  another  with  bright  anticipations.  After 
an  hour's  halt,  there  was  a  new  start.  The  column 
once  more  in  motion  wound  its  slow  way  along  the 


3OO  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

hillside,  around  to  the  left ;  and,  to  the  surprise  of  all, 
back  to  the  works  again,  and  in  through  another  sally- 
port than  that  by  which  it  had  passed  out.  The 
troops  returned  to  their  several  camps.  A  flag  of 
truce  coming  in  from  the  enemy  had  suspended  the 
move  for  the  time  being,  and  a  night  of  rest  was  to  be 
substituted  for  one  of  fatigue  and  exposure.  The 
friends  sat  writing  and  talking  until  past  midnight. 
Then,  for  the  last  time,  they  read  their  evening  chap- 
ter, prayed  together,  and  lay  down  side  by  side,  as  so 
often  before. 

At  3  A.  M.,  they  were  up  again ;  and  at  four  the 
regiment  was  once  more  in  motion.  In  the  darkness 
of  the  early  morning,  the  column  passed  out  beyond 
the  works,  by  the  Cox  Farm,  through  the  woods, 
across  the  ravine,  on  to  the  Johnson  Place;  thence, 
after  a  brief  halt,  to  close  up  the  lines,  over  the  Darby- 
town  Road,  to  the  extensive  plains  between  that  and 
the  Charles  City  Road.  There  was  another  halt  to 
form  for  an  attack. 

The  morning  was  delightful.  It  was  the  opening 
of  a  bright  October  day.  The  air  was  clear  and  brac- 
ing. The  first  rays  of  the  rising  sun  were  reflected 
from  the  frosted  surface  of  the  wide-reaching  grassy 
fields,  and  from  the  many  hued  forest-trees  beyond,  as 
the  skirmishers  of  three  brigades  deployed,  and  moved 
in  a  thin  wavy  line,  extending  far  to  right  and  left,  up 
toward  the  belt  of  woods  where  the  enemy's  mounted 
vedettes  were  distinctly  seen.  General,  staff,  and  regi- 


Earthworks  across  Darby  town  Road  near  Richmond,  Va. 


A    BRILLIANT   SCENE.  3<DI 

mental  officers  rode  hither  and  thither.  Corps,  divis- 
ion, and  brigade  flags  were  in  sight.  Long  lines  of 
infantry,  with  flashing  arms  and  waving  standards, 
were  coming  up  by  the  flank  or  advancing  in  battle 
front.  Cavalry,  with  rattling  sabers  and  fluttering 
camp-colors,  clattered  along  the  road,  and  the  brilliant 
guidons  of  the  artillery — still  far  at  the  rear — signaled 
the  approach  of  the  rumbling  batteries.  The  scene 
was  exhilarating  and  inspiriting ;  and  no  one  more 
thoroughly  appreciated  and  heartily  enjoyed  it  than 
young  Major  Camp  as  he  rode  back  and  forth,  con- 
veying orders  and  bearing  messages. 

The  first  fire  of  the  skirmishers  opened.  The 
enemy's  advanced  line  was  easily  pressed  back  to  his 
strongly  intrenched  position  beyond  the  woods.  There 
his  skirmishers  were  re-enforced,  and  the  progress  of 
the  attacking  party  was  stayed.  For  several  hours, 
the  fighting  was  brisk  between  the  opposing  skirmish- 
lines;  the  main  force  halting  in  line  of  battle  in  close 
reserve.  Four  companies  of  the  Tenth  skirmished 
under  Lieutenant  Linsley;  the  other  six  were  in  re- 
serve, in  charge  of  the  three  field-officers.  The  fore- 
noon dragged  along  slowly.  Artillery  fire  was  sharp  for 
a  time,  and  the  rattle  of  musketry  was  incessant.  Men 
were  killed  and  wounded  near  by,  as  the  little  group  of 
officers  of  the  Tenth  sat  chatting  together;  and  word 
came  frequently  that  one  or  another  good  soldier  had 
fallen  on  the  skirmish-line.  An  occasional  narrow 
escape  to  some  of  the  party,  from  a  flying  bullet  or 


3O2  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

shell  fragment,  would  cause  a  passing  remark,  or, 
perhaps,  raise  a  laugh.  No  one  expected  to  be  hit 
himself,  for  he  had  escaped  so  many  times  before. 
Dinner  was  brought  up  and  eaten  under  fire.  Then 
Camp  stretched  himself  on  the  ground,  and  was  lulled 
to  sleep  by  the  sound  of  the  battle. 

Soon  after  noon  he  was  started  up  to  lead  a  party 
of  men  down  the  road  on  a  mission  from  the  corps 
commander.  While  he  was  away,  Colonel  Otis  re- 
ceived orders  to  report  at  once  with  the  remainder  of 
his  regiment  to  Colonel  Pond,  commanding  the  First 
Brigade,  at  the  extreme  right  of  the  division.  No 
sooner  was  the  new  position  reached,  than  the  forma- 
tion of  troops  was  seen  to  indicate  an  assault  on  the 
works  in  front;  and  a  chill  ran  over  many  an  old 
soldier's  frame.  The  enemy  was  known  to  be  strongly 
intrenched;  and  an  advance  could  be  made  at  this 
point  only  by  a  dense  thicket  of  scrub-oaks,  and  laurels, 
and  tangled  vines,  through  which  a  way  could  not  be 
forced  save  slowly  and  step  by  step.  A  dashing, 
resistless  charge  was  impossible;  and  the  small  force 
ordered  forward  was  not  likely  to  prove  any  match 
for  the  now  heavily  re-enforced  lines  of  the  foe.  There 
was  a  disturbed  look  on  the  face  of  every  officer,  and 
outspoken  protests  were  heard  from  many. 

When  the  chaplain  saw  the  condition  of  affairs,  his 
hope  and  prayer  were  that  his  friend  would  not  return 
in  season  to  share  the  perils  of  the  assault,  since  he 
could  probably  in  no  way  affect  its  result.  But,  while 


THANKING    GOD    IN    PERIL.  303 

the  column  waited,  Major  Camp  appeared,  wiping 
from  his  face  the  perspiration  caused  by  his  exertions 
to  rejoin  his  regiment  without  delay.  As  he  came  up, 
the  chaplain's  face  fell  with  disappointment.  Reading 
the  look,  Camp  said  quickly  and  tenderly: 

"Why,  what  is  the  matter,  Henry?  has  anything 
happened?  " 

"No;  but  I'm  sorry  you've  returned  in  time  for 
this  assault." 

"Oh!  don't  say  so,  my  dear  fellow;  I  thank  God 
I'm  back." 

"But  you  can  do  no  good,  and  I'm  afraid  for  you." 

"  Well,  you  wouldn't  have  the  regiment  go  in  with 
me  behind, — would  you  ?  No,  no !  In  any  event,  I 
thank  God  I  am  here  !  " 

Then  he  moved  about  among  his  comrades,  with  a 
bright  and  cheerful  face,  like  a  gleam  of  sunshine 
through  gathering  clouds.  Never  a  word  of  doubt 
or  distrust  did  he  express  as  to  the  pending  move, 
although  his  opinion  was  probably  the  same  as  that  of 
the  others  as  to  its  inevitable  issue.  Many  near  him 
were  as  regardless  of  personal  danger  as  he,  and  would 
go  as  fearlessly  into  the  thickest  of  the  fray;  but  few,  if 
any,  showed  such  sublimity  of  moral  courage,  in  meet- 
ing, without  a  murmur,  the  responsibilities  of  such  an 
hour.  "  I  don't  like  this  blue  talking,"  he  said,  aside 
to  his  friend.  "The  men  see  it,  and  it  affects  them. 
If  we  must  go,  we  must;  and  the  true  way  is  to  make 
the  best  of  it." 


304  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

The  shattered  remnant  of  the  Tenth  had  the  right 
of  the  assaulting  column,  which  was  formed  in  two 
lines  of  battle.  Colonel  Otis  led  the  right  and  front. 
Lieutenant-Colonel  Greeley  led  the  right  of  the  second 
line, — the  left  of  which  was  assigned  to  Major  Camp. 
'  May  I  not  as  well  take  the  left  of  the  front  line, 
Colonel?"  Camp  asked  in  his  quiet  way.  "Certainly, 
if  you  prefer  it,"  was  the  reply;  and  he  took  his  place 
accordingly, — not  that  the  advanced  position  was  more 
honorable,  nor  yet  because  it  was  more  exposed,  but 
from  the  belief  that  it  gave  him  a  better  opportunity 
to  lead  and  encourage  the  men.  As  he  drew  his 
pistol  from  its  case,  and  thrust  it  loosely  through  his 
belt  for  instant  use  in  the  deadly  struggle,  and  un- 
sheathed his  sword,  he  said  to  his  friend,  "I  don't 
quite  like  this  half-hearted  way  of  fighting.  If  we 
were  ordered  to  go  into  that  work  at  all  hazards,  I 
should  know  just  what  to  do;  but  we  are  told  to  go 
on  as  far  as  those  at  our  left  advance,  and  to  fall  back 
when  they  retire.  Such  orders  are  perplexing."  And 
they  were;  for  the  men  of  the  Tenth  had  never  yet 
failed  to  do  the  work  assigned  them, — never  yet  fallen 
back  under  the  pressure  of  the  enemy. 

The  two  friends  talked  of  the  possibilities  of  the 
hour,  speaking  freely  of  the  delightful  past  and  as  to 
the  probable  future.  "  If  we  don't  meet  again  here, 
we  will  hope  to  meet  in  heaven,"  said  the  chaplain. 
"Yes,"  replied  Camp;  "and  yet  I  have  been  so  ab- 
sorbed in  this  life,  that  I  can  hardly  realize  that  there 


A    FOREBODING    GOOD-BY.  305 

is  another  life  beyond."  After  a  few  more  words  on 
this  theme,  the  friends  clasped  hands,  and  Camp  said 
warmly,  " Good-by,  Henry!  good-by!"  The  words 
sent  a  chill  to  the  other's  heart;  and,  as  he  moved  to 
the  right  of  the  line,  they  rang  in  his  ears  as  a  sound  of 
deep  and  fearful  meaning.  "  Good-by !  "  that  farewell 
had  never  before  been  uttered  in  all  the  partings  of  a 
score  and  a  half  of  battle-fields.  It  was  first  appro- 
priate now. 

The  signal  was  given  for  a  start:  the  men  raised 
the  charging  cry  with  a  tone  that  indicated  rather  a 
willingness  to  obey  than  a  hope  of  success;  and  the 
doomed  column  struggled  forward,  through  the  im- 
peding undergrowth  of  the  dense  wood,  through  the 
crashing  sweep  of  grape  and  canister,  and  the  fatal 
hiss  and  hum  of  flying  bullets.  Those  latest  words 
had  so  impressed  the  chaplain  with  the  idea  that  this 
hour  was  his  comrade's  last  on  earth,  that  he  felt 
he  must  see  him  yet  again,  and  have  another  and 
more  cheering  assurance  of  his  faith  than  that  natural 
expression  of  inability  in  the  present  to  fully  realize 
the  eternal  future.  He  turned  once  more  to  the  left, 
and  pressed  on  to  overtake  the  major,  whom  he  saw  in 
the  advance,  pushing  his  way  along  toward  the  farther- 
most front  of  death.  Every  step  was  an  effort.  The 
struggle  to  reach  his  friend  was  almost  as  the  hopeless 
chase  in  a  nightmare  dream.  Oh  for  some  superhu- 
man arm  to  remove  the  intervening  thicket  before  the 
one  or  the  other  fell  prostrate !  At  length  they  were 

20 


3O6  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

side  by  side  in  the  deadly  race.  As  the  chaplain  laid 
his  hand  on  the  other's  arm,  Camp  turned  with  a  lov- 
ing look  of  glad  surprise.  "  You  said,  Henry,  that  you 
could  not  realize  you  had  a  home  in  heaven.  You  do 
not  doubt  your  Saviour, — do  you?"  asked  the  chap- 
lain as  they  pressed  on  together.  Camp's  face  lighted 
up  inspiringly,  all  aglow  with  excitement,  and  pro- 
foundly expressive  in  its  story  of  affection,  of  courage, 
and  of  faith.  It  was  surely  never  more  fair  or  bright 
or  beautiful  than  in  that  hour  and  place  of  death,  as 
the  peerless  Christian  soldier  said,  with  warmth  and 
earnestness,  "No,  no!  dear  fellow!  I  do  not  doubt. 
I  do  trust  Jesus,  fully,  wholly."  With  another  good- 
by,  the  two  friends  parted. 

The  chaplain  turned  to  his  work  among  the  many 
wounded  and  dying.  The  major  struggled  on,  through 
the  thicket,  out  to  the  open  space  before  the  enemy's 
works;  and  there,  when  all  at  his  left  had  fallen  back, 
when  only  the  brave  men  of  the  stedfast  Tenth  at  his 
right  were  yet  pressing  forward,  he  stood  for  a  moment 
to  re-form  the  broken  line  which  could  not  be  main- 
tained in  the  tangled  wood.  The  rebel  parapet  was 
but  a  few  rods  in  his  front.  From  the  double  battle- 
line  behind  it,  the  rifles  poured  forth  their  ceaseless 
fire  of  death.  His  tall  and  manly  form  was  too  dis- 
tinct a  target  to  escape  special  notice  from  the  foe. 
Waving  his  sword,  he  called  aloud  cheerily,  "Come 
on,  boys,  come  on!"  then  turned  to  the  color-sergeant 
just  emerging  from  the  thicket,  that  he  might  rally 


THE    DEATH-STROKE.  307 

the  men  on  the  regimental  standard.  As  he  did  so,  a 
bullet  passed  through  his  lungs;  and,  as  he  fell  on  his 
side,  he  was  pierced  yet  again  and  again  by  the  thick- 
coming  shot.  His  death  was  as  by  the  lightning's 
stroke.  His  eyes  scarce  turned  from  their  glance  at 
the  tattered,  dear  old  flag,  ere  they  were  closed  to 
earth,  and  opened  again  beyond  the  stars  and  their 
field  of  blue. 

The  few  remaining  veterans  of  the  Tenth  were 
alone,  before  the  enemy's  well  -  defended  stronghold. 
They  had  performed  the  part  assigned  them.  Had 
the  order  been  to  go  on  at  all  hazards,  they  would 
never  have  turned  about,  even  though  no  man  of  their 
number  had  crowned  the  bristling  parapet  in  their 
front.  But  the  brigade  commander  who  directed 
their  movements  had  already  fallen  back  with  the 
remainder  of  his  troops.  Seeing  this,  Colonel  Otis 
and  Lieutenant-Colonel  Greeley  retired  in  good  order 
their  little  band  of  now  less  than  fifty  men,  and  reached 
again  their  starting-point, — having  lost  more  than  one- 
half  the  battalion,  dead  or  wounded,  in  the  fruitless 
charge.  Major  Camp's  body  was  left  where  he  fell.  It 
was  in  vain  that  his  stricken  friend  sought  to  reach  and 
recover  it.  The  enemy  closely  followed  up  the  retiring 
column  with  a  skirmish-line,  and  held  the  bloody  field, 
with  its  dead  and  wounded.  This  closed  the  aggres- 
sive movements  of  the  day.  General  Ames's  division 
shortly  after  recrossed  the  Darbytown  Road,  and  with- 
drew to  the  line  of  works  it  had  left  in  the  morning. 


3O3  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

Before  Camp's  body  was  really  cold,  the  enemy — 
as  was  afterward  learned  from  the  wounded  who  were 
near  him — took  from  his  person  his  sword  and  pistol, 
his  watch  and  regatta  ring,  his  money  and  papers,  and 
even  stripped  him  of  all  his  outer  garments.  The  next 
morning,  Colonel  Rockwell  of  the  Sixth  Connecticut, 
accompanied  by  Chaplain  Trumbull  and  Lieutenant 
Shreve,  bore  out  a  flag  of  truce  with  a  communication 
from  Major-General  Terry  to  the  commander  of  the 
Confederate  forces  on  the  Darby  town  Road,  request- 
ing the  return  of  Major  Camp's  remains. 

The  party  were  halted  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  on  the 
road  beyond  the  Johnson  Place,  at  a  point  midway 
between  the  opposing  picket-lines,  and  there  made  to 
wait  until  a  reply  could  be  received  from  the  request 
they  brought.  Captain  Semmes  of  South  Carolina,  an 
officer  of  the  general's  staff,  soon  responded  to  the  com- 
munication, and  stated  that  the  desired  remains  were 
being  exhumed  without  delay,  having  been  already 
several  hours  buried.  When  they  were  finally  borne 
down  the  road,  Captain  Semmes  expressed  his  sincere 
regret  that  the  clothing  and  valuables  had  been  taken 
from  the  body;  and,  when  the  chaplain  expressed  a 
strong  desire  for  the  personal  diary  of  his  friend,  cour- 
teously promised  to  seek  and  recover  that,  if  possible. 
Subsequently,  having  obtained  it  by  no  little  search, 
he  kindly  sent  it  through  the  lines,  informally,  to  the 
great  satisfaction  of  the  home  friends  of  the  fallen 
soldier. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

MEMORIAL  TRIBUTES. 

was  a  sad  journey  for  the  chaplain,  when 
he  went  northward  with  the  body  of  his 
friend,  to  lay  it  away  in  its  Hartford  rest- 
ing-place. The  funeral  services  there 
were  conducted  by  the  Rev.  George  B. 
Spaulding,  the  successor  of  the  Rev.  Dr.  Bushnell  in 
the  pastorate  of  the  North  Congregational  Church, 
assisted  by  the  Rev.  Dr.  Joel  Hawes  and  Chaplain 
Trumbull. 

"The  body  was  borne  by  the  intimate  friends  and 
college  classmates  of  the  dead,  from  the  church, 
through  an  open  line  formed  by  members  of  the  City 
Guard  in  citizens'  dress ;  and,  under  the  bright  Octo- 
ber sky,  one  of  the  noblest,  truest  men  that  ever  lived 
a  pure,  manly,  holy  life,  or  ever  died  a  generous  sacri- 
fice to  a  cause  which  such  deaths  sanctify;  was  laid 
away,  together  with  all  that  was  dear  to  '  friends  and 
sacred  home,'  except  the  blessed  memory  of  the 
grandeur  of  his  goodness." 

309 


3IO  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

The  widespread  sorrow  which  the  death  of  Major 
Camp  occasioned,  in  the  army  and  home  circles  of  his 
admiring  comrades  or  attached  friends,  found  expres- 
sion in  many  a  warm  and  eloquent  tribute  to  his 
acknowledged  ability  and  worth. 

Colonel  John  L.  Otis,  commander  of  the  Tenth 
Connecticut,  in  reporting  the  action  in  which  Camp 
fell,  said: 

"The  memory  of  Major  Henry  W.  Camp  is  deserv- 
ing of  more  than  a  passing  notice.  The  service  has 
never  suffered  a  heavier  loss  in  an  officer  of  his  grade. 
Brave  and  cool  in  every  emergency,  of  spotless  char- 
acter and  refined  intellectual  culture,  he  was  one  of 
the  brightest  ornaments  of  the  volunteer  service, — a 
soldier  '  without  fear  and  without  reproach.'  " 

Brigadier-General  Hawley  wrote  of  him  to  a  friend : 

"  He  is  deeply  mourned  by  all  who  knew  him, — a 
gentleman,  a  soldier,  and  a  Christian.  He  was,  indeed, 
a  young  man  of  rare  excellence  and  promise." 

In  announcing  Camp's  death,  the  Hartford  Daily 
Post,  edited  by  his  classmate,  Mr.  E.  G.  Holden,  said: 

"  Thus  has  perished  one  of  the  noblest  young  men 
whom  this  city  has  ever  mourned.  He  possessed  some 
rare  characteristics :  prominent  among  them  was  a 
Christian  manliness  that  impressed  itself  palpably  upon 
every  one  with  whom  he  came  in  contact.  He  had  a 
robust,  vigorous  moral  strength,  and  a  keen  consci- 
entiousness, ever  vigilant  against  even  the  shadow  of 
wrong.  His  entrance  into  the  army  was  the  result  of 


STRENGTH    AND    SWEETNESS.  3  I  I 

a  deliberate  conviction  of  the  right  and  justice  of  the 
cause  to  which  he  consecrated  himself.  He  did  not 
wish  to  pass  through  this  epoch  of  grand  events  with- 
out participating  in  them  ;  and,  governed  by  the  same 
motives  throughout,  he  patiently,  sincerely,  and  bravely 
performed  his  every  duty.  And  the  iron  discipline  of 
the  war  wrought  in  him  a  still  bolder  manhood  and  a 
more  marked  Christian  character.  His  filial  reverence, 
his  social  kindliness,  his  firmly  outlined  integrity,  were 
traits  for  which  he  was  loved,  and  by  which  he  will 
long  be  remembered." 

Mr.  Charles  Dudley  Warner,  then  editor  of  the 
Hartford  Evening  Press,  said  of  him  appreciatively: 

"He  was  an  unusually  fine  and  accurate  scholar, 
with  a  free,  open  mind  and  large  capacity.  From  his 
solid  acquirements,  his  industry,  his  versatility  and 
energy,  his  happy  facility  as  a  writer  and  impromptu 
speaker, — his  friends  were  justified  in  expecting  great 
things  from  his  maturity. 

"  More  than  almost  any  one  we  knew,  his  character 
was  one  of  mingled  strength  and  sweetness.  He  was 
thoroughly  manly  and  noble,  with  the  clearest  con- 
science, and  the  highest  sense  of  duty,  and,  in  dis- 
position and  manners,  most  lovely  and  winning.  To 
natural  graces  of  no  ordinary  sort,  refinement  and 
amiability,  he  added  the  piety  of  a  devout  Christian. 
A  strong,  cultivated  intellect,  a  large,  warm  heart,  a 
gracious,  attractive  manner,  —  what  he  might  have 
been  to  the  world  we  shall  never  know.  We  know 


312  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

he  was  brave  and  beautiful  in  death ;  and  we  believe 
that,  giving  his  life  for  the  noblest  cause  in  history, 
he  already  knows  that  the  sacrifice  was  not  in  vain." 

Of  Henry  Camp's  characteristics  and  qualities  as  a 
student  of  law,  and  of  his  admirableness  as  a  man, 
Hon.  John  Hooker,  Reporter  of  the  Supreme  Court 
of  the  State  of  Connecticut,  in  whose  office  he  was  a 
student,  had  this  to  say : 

"You  desire  me  to  give  you  some  account  of  our 
lamented  friend,  Major  Camp,  as  a  student  of  law  with 
me.  He  studied  with  me  from  the  spring  of  1861  till 
the  following  winter,  when  he  left  for  the  war.  Dur- 
ing this  time,  he  frequently  came  to  my  house  in  the 
evening  to  recite,  as  it  was  more  convenient  to  me  to 
hear  him  there.  There  is  little  that  I  can  say  of  him 
in  this  relation,  beyond  the  fact  that  he  exhibited  a 
remarkable  facility  in  the  acquisition  of  the  science. 
Of  the  many  students  whom  I  have  had  in  my  office, 
I  never  had  one  who  seemed  to  comprehend  legal 
principles  so  readily.  I  certainly  found  difficulties 
myself  in  my  early  study  of  the  law  which  he  did  not 
encounter.  He  seemed  to  understand  at  once,  not 
merely  the  refined  distinctions  of  the  law,  but  the  rela- 
tions of  one  principle  to  another;  and,  so  far  as  he 
went,  to  take  in  the  science  in  all  its  proportions.  He 
thus  manifested,  not  merely  a  highly  discriminating 
mind,  but  a  generalizing  and  philosophical. one.  I 
was  so  much  struck  with  this,  in  the  more  leisurely 
recitations  of  the  evening,  when  I  often  extended  the 


A    SELF-POISED    MIND.  313 

instruction  beyond  the  mere  lesson  into  the  adjacent 
and  related  fields  of  the  science,  that  I  repeatedly 
spoke  to  my  family  about  it  after  he  had  left.  I  am 
sure  that,  if  he  had  lived,  he  would  have  made  a  very 
superior  lawyer.  His  mind  was  calm,  clear,  and  self- 
poised,  and  his  judgment  sound.  He  had,  I  think,  in 
a  high  degree,  the  judicial  faculty,  and  would  have 
ultimately  made  an  able  judge. 

"  His  faculties,  naturally  superior,  had  evidently 
been  improved  by  thorough  education.  He  seemed 
to  me  to  have  felt,  while  in  college  and  earlier,  the 
value  of  education;  and  to  have  improved  his  oppor- 
tunities well.  He  thus  came  to  the  study  of  his  pro- 
fession with  a  mind  remarkably  disciplined,  as  well  as 
with  a  rare  literary  culture.  His  reading  had  also 
been  systematic  and  well  chosen,  so  that  his  mind  was 
well  furnished,  both  with  thoughts  on  the  most  im- 
portant subjects,  and  with  information. 

"When  the  war  broke  out,  his  whole  soul  became 
enlisted  in  the  cause  of  the  country ;  and  he  could  not 
bear  to  fail  in  his  full  duty  and  his  full  measure  of 
sacrifice  in  her  behalf.  Still  he  had  no  taste  for  mili- 
tary life.  He  had  been  brought  up  to  look  upon  war 
as  one  of  the  great  curses  of  the  world;  and  military 
ambition  and  displays  had  always  had  with  him  an 
unpleasant  association  with  the  wickedness  of  war. 
He  had  no  misgivings,  however,  as  to  the  righteous- 
ness of  the  war  which  had  been  forced  upon  us ;  and 
prepared  himself  at  once  for  what  might  be  found  to 


3  14  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

be  his  duty,  by  joining  the  City  Guard — a  finely  or- 
ganized home  company — for  the  purpose  of  learning 
military  drill.  There  was  probably  nothing  that  made 
him  hesitate  so  much,  as  to  joining  the  army,  as  the 
distress  that  he  knew  it  would  give  to  his  mother,  who 
idolized  him,  and  who  had  long  held,  as  well  as  in- 
stilled into  him,  a  horror  of  all  war,  as  essentially 
unchristian.  As  the  call  of  duty  grew  more  and  more 
emphatic  and  unequivocal  to  him,  the  voice  of  home, 
coming  to  him  no  less  tenderly,  and  falling  on  no  less 
loving  ears,  yet  lost  some  of  its  potency;  but  it  was 
not  till  he  had  obtained  the  full  yet  agonized  assent 
of  his  mother,  that  he  left  his  home  for  the  field. 

"This  completes  the  particular  duty  which  you  had 
assigned  to  me,  of  giving  a  sketch  of  him  as  a  law 
student.  I  cannot  help,  however,  expressing  to  you 
my  admiration  of  him  in  other  respects  than  his  rare 
intellectual  powers.  He  was,  physically  and  morally, 
as  nearly  perfect  as  any  young  man  I  ever  saw.  In- 
deed, as  a  splendid  specimen  of  a  physical,  intellectual, 
and  Christian  man,  I  do  not  know  whom  I  could  place 
by  the  side  of  him.  While  earnest  and  devoted  as  a 
Christian,  and  of  a  sensitive  purity  that  would  have 
adorned  a  maiden,  he  had  yet  nothing  of  religious 
assumption  or  obtrusive  meekness  in  his  manner.  He 
was  one  of  those  muscular  Christians  who  could  swing 
an  almost  irresistible  arm,  and  a  defiant  one,  if  necessary, 
as  well  as  utter  the  gentlest  words  of  love.  The  very 
caviler  at  religion  could  not  but  respect  and  admire  him. 


QUENCHLESS    LIFE.  315 

"  I  have  never  seen  one  more  full  of  life  and  strength, 
and  ready  to  do  battle  with  hearty  vigor  for  truth  and 
right;  never  one  with  whom  it  seemed  more  incon- 
gruous to  associate  the  idea  of  early  and  sudden 
death.  Few  deaths  ever  extinguished  more  of  life 
than  went  out  when  he  died.  It  is  almost  impos- 
sible for  me  to  satisfy  myself  that  there  is  not  some 
illusion  about  it;  and  that  he  is  not,  after  all,  still 
living.  The  exuberance  of  his  vital  energy  seems  to 
me  to  have  been  an  overmatch  for  any  ordinary  power 
of  death. 

"I  last  saw  him  as  he  was  hurrying  to  the  cars, 
the  last  time  he  left  home,  to  join  his  regiment  at  the 
front  He  had  been  many  months  in  prison  at  the 
South,  and  had  just  been  paroled  and  had  reached  his 
home.  A  few  days  after  his  return  he  heard,  un- 
officially, that  he  had  been  exchanged,  and  could 
return  to  active  service.  He  had  a  furlough  for  twenty 
days,  but  a  small  part  of  which  had  passed.  Without 
waiting  to  write,  he  left  his  home  to  hurry  on,  that  he 
might  not  lose  a  day  in  getting  to  his  regiment.  I 
happened  to  be  riding  with  my  family  through  the 
street  on  which  his  father  lived ;  and,  as  we  approached 
the  house,  Henry  came  out  on  his  way  to  the  cars. 
On  seeing  us,  he  came  up  to  the  carriage  to  bid  us 
good-by.  We  exchanged  a  few  words,  and  shook 
hands  with  him,  and  said:  'God  bless  you!'  and  he 
hurried  on.  I  never  saw  him  again.  As  he  left  us, 
we  all  spoke  of  the  remarkable  beauty  and  grandeur 


3l6  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

that  seemed  to  rest  upon  him.  His  face  was  flushed 
and  glowing,  and  his  eye  dilated;  his  form  almost 
majestic  in  its  size  and  elegant  proportions;  and  the 
whole  man  bore  the  impress  of  the  nobleness  of  purity 
and  patriotism  and  self-sacrifice.  It  was  a  grand  view 
for  the  last  one  I  was  to  have  of  him.  It  seems  to  me 
now  to  be  less  like  an  earthly  and  mere  human  vision, 
than  like  that  glorified  presence  which  he  already 
bears,  and  which  I  hope,  some  day,  to  see  in  the 
heavenly  world." 

Colonel  [afterward  General]  Harris  M.  Plaisted,  of 
the  Eleventh  Maine,  then  in  command  of  the  Third 
Brigade  of  the  First  Division  of  the  Twenty-fourth 
Army  Corps,  gave  his  impressions  of  Major  Camp  as 
follows : 

"It  was  at  Drewry's  BlurT,  May  16,  that  I  first  saw 
Major  Camp,  under  very  interesting  and  somewhat 
exciting  circumstances.  The  Army  of  the  James  was 
retiring  before  the  victorious  enemy.  There  was  a 
momentary  lull  in  the  conflict;  and  the  gallant  Tenth, 
having  repulsed  the  onset  of  the  enemy  on  its  front, 
was  in  the  act  of  taking  up  a  new  position,  when  I  saw 
two  horsemen  abreast,  coming  through  the  slashing, 
straight  to  the  front, — yourself  and  Major  (then  Adju- 
tant) Camp.  I  had  heard  of  Adjutant  Camp  as  'the 
chaplain's  friend/  and  that  he  was  expected.  At  a 
glance,  I  saw  that  the  long-imprisoned  adjutant  had 
returned.  How  will  this  young  man  accept  this  state 
of  things?  thought  I.  How  will  he  be  received? 


A    MODEL   OF    MANHOOD.  317 

The  dead  of  his  regiment  were  lying  in  the  road, — the 
wounded  being  carried  past  him  to  the  rear.  He  took 
no  note  of  the  dead  or  of  the  wounded;  none  of  the 
gallant  boys  of  his  regiment.  His  eyes  were  on  the 
field, — right,  left,  and  front,  taking  in  the  scene;  for 
the  battle  was  not  over.  His  face  was  pale,  his  lips 
compressed,  and  his  every  feature  seemed  like  iron. 
One  of  the  soldiers  of  the  Tenth  exclaimed :  '  There 
is  the  adjutant! — Adjutant  Camp!'  Then  the  brave 
boys  gave  at  once  a  shout  of  recognition,  throwing  up 
their  caps,  and  cheering.  Instantly  his  features  re- 
laxed, his  face  filled  with  hot  blood,  and  the  iron 
man  of  the  moment  before  appeared  as  modest  as  a 
girl;  but  when  he  took  off  his  hat,  sat  erect  in  his 
saddle,  while  the  Tenth  moved  past  as  it  were  in 
review,  '  the  young  man  '  dwarfed  everybody  present. 

"  I  was  impressed  by  Major  Camp's  bearing  on  that 
occasion.  I  felt  that  he  was  a  power,  an  embodiment 
of  will,  force,  genius ;  and  that  opportunity  alone  was 
wanting  in  him  for  the  display  of  great  qualities.  He 
gave  such  assurance  of  a  true  soldier,  my  first  impulse 
was  to  wish  for  an  occasion  for  him, — one  equal  to 
the  man.  They  were  knightly  qualities  that  showed 
forth  themselves  in  him. 

"Subsequent  acquaintance  with  Major  Camp  never 
effaced,  never  diminished,  the  first  impressions  of  him. 
He  ever  seemed  to  me  the  fittest  man  for  the  choicest 
occasion;  hence  I  was  chary  of  exposing  him — felt 
that  he  was  not  one  to  be  killed  in  a  skirmish.  The 


3l8  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

day  he  fell,  this  feeling  was  strong  in  me.  '  I  have 
no  officer/  said  Colonel  Otis,  'to  send  with  the  skir- 
mishers, unless  I  send  Major  Camp.'  I  felt  averse  to 
sending  him  against  a  thicket  where  any  skulking 
rebel  might  take  away  his  life.  Later  in  the  day,  I 
wanted  a  field  officer  to  take  charge  of  the  skirmish- 
line  of  the  brigade  detachments  of  the  several  regiments, 
which  were  doing  a  good  deal  of  fighting,  but  disliked 
to  expose  the  major,  and  delayed  sending  for  him  on 
that  account.  But,  when  the  order  came  to  send  the 
Tenth  to  report  to  Colonel  Pond,  I  immediately  sent 
for  the  major,  but  he  was  away.  I  had  placed  the 
Tenth  in  reserve  that  day,  its  ranks  were  so  thinned, 
wishing  to  spare  its  gallant  officers  and  men ;  and  that 
very  circumstance  devoted  it  to  the  bloody  service  which 
I  wished  to  spare  it.  It  was  the  will  of  Heaven. 

"  After  the  affair  of  Drewry's  Bluff,  I  never  saw  Major 
Camp  excited, — never  saw  him  except  in  repose.  In 
all  our  subsequent  engagements  with  the  enemy,  he 
was  the  same  quiet,  composed  soldier  he  was  in  camp. 

"  October  7,  he  moved  along  the  battle-line  of  the 
Tenth  among  the  file-closers,  the  only  commissioned 
officer  Colonel  Otis  had,  with  perfect  coolness;  and, 
when  the  fight  was  hottest,  was  as  one  almost  without 
occupation.  He  seemed  a  little  moved;  and  I  never 
shall  forget  the  light  of  victory  in  his  eye,  as  the  boys 
of  the  Tenth  gave  their  shouts  for  victoiy.  He  thought 
nothing  would  express  his  sentiments  so  well,  just  at 
that  time,  as  'Hail,  Columbia!'  from  the  band. 


DUTY    FIRST    OF    ALL.  319 

"At  Petersburg  he  was  detailed  by  General  Terry 
as  Acting  Assistant  Adjutant-General  of  the  brigade. 
The  regiment  had  three  field-officers,  and  he  could  be 
spared.  He  received  the  order  as  the  brigade  was  in 
line,  ready  to  move  across  the  James,  on  the  eve  of 
the  battle  of  New  Market  Heights.  He  came  to  me 
with  a  most  troubled  expression  of  countenance. 
'Colonel/  said  he,  'cannot  this  be  changed?  I  have 
been  absent  from  my  regiment  so  much:  I  have  just 
been  promoted,  and  we  are  now  going  into  action.  It 
will  not  do  for  me  to  be  away  from  my  regiment.' 

"  He  could  not  rest  until  he  saw  the  general,  and 
received  permission  to  accompany  his  regiment. 

"  Major  Camp's  modesty,  his  purity  and  simplicity 
of  character,  seemed  not  to  belong  to  one  of  his  years, 
but  rather  to  the  innocence  of  childhood.  Entirely 
unconscious  of  the  powers  he  possessed,  he  would 
hardly  seek  responsibility ;  yet  he  was  not  the  man  to 
turn  from  the  path  of  duty  to  avoid  it.  The  only 
question  in  his  mind  would  be,  'What  is  duty?'  But, 
with  a  great  responsibility  thrown  upon  him,  he  would 
have  been  an  inspired  man,  and  equal  to  any  emer- 
gency. For  my  part,  I  believe  him  to  have  been  as 
good  a  man — as  good  in  head  and  heart — as  was 
George  Washington  in  his  youth,  or  as  David  when 
he  kept  his  father's  sheep  or  slew  Goliath. 

"  However  contrary  to  our  desires  was  his  early 
death,  we  must  believe  that  it  was  best,  and  that  some 
great  good  will  come  of  it.  May  it  not  be  realized  in 


32O  THE    KNIGHTLY    SOLDIER. 

the  pious  labors  of  your  hands  in  giving  to  the  young 
men  of  our  country,  in  his  Life,'  the  example  of  such 
a  character  ?  " 

Thus  closes  the  record  of  a  brief  and  beautiful  life. 
"All  of  us  who  were  about  him,"  said  a  college  friend, 
"  perceived  that  Henry  Camp  was  a  Christian  who  fol- 
lowed Christ.  All  things  that  were  true,  honest,  just, 
pure,  lovely,  of  good  report,  shone  in  his  walk  and 
conversation  among  us.  Not  more  pleasing  was  his 
manly  beauty  to  the  eye  than  was  his  piety  to  the 
hearts  of  such  as  communed  with  him."  "True 
always,  and  faithful  unto  death,"  adds  a  classmate, 
"the  sudden  stroke  that  quenched  all  our  bright  hopes 
for  his  future  opened  to  him  a  new  life  of  nobler  aims 
and  higher  services.  Such  a  death  closes  such  a  life 
with  all  fitness.  The  suddenness  of  heroic  death 
rivals  the  blessedness  of  translation.  No  waste  of 
energies,  no  sad  decay,  but  a  Christian  soul  rising  to 
heaven  while  the  heart  is  still  intense  with  the  fire  of 
purified  passion,  and  the  body  girt  for  battle." 


At  the  commemorative  celebration  of  Yale  in  July, 
1865,  when  Camp's  Alma  Mater  honored  her  soldier 
dead,  and  welcomed  her  living  heroes  of  the  then  clos- 
ing war,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Bushnell,  in  his  grand  address, 
reserved  the  story  of  this  young  student  soldier  for 


MASSIVE    MAJESTY.  321 

the  climax  of  Yale's  glowing  record  in  the  war,  and 
then  said  of  him  : 

"  Major  Camp  I  had  known  from  his  childhood 
onward,  and  had  watched  him  with  a  continually 
growing  expectation  to  the  last.  His  wondrously  fine 
person  was  a  faithful  type  of  his  whole  character  and 
power.  His  modesty  and  courage  never  parted  com- 
pany. His  almost  over-delicate  conscience  was  fitly 
fortified  by  a  strong  unsubduable  will.  He  had  no 
flash  qualities,  but  was  always  unfolding  in  full,  round 
harmony  with  himself.  As  a  man,  he  scarcely  dared 
to  think  himself  a  Christian;  as  a  Christian,  he  was 
never  any  the  less  perfectly  a  man.  My  impression 
of  him  is,  that  I  have  never  known  so  much  of  worth, 
and  beauty,  and  truth,  and  massive  majesty, — so  much, 
in  a  word,  of  all  kinds  of  promise, — embodied  in  any 
young  person.  Whatever  he  might  undertake,  whether 
to  be  a  poet,  or  a  philosopher,  or  a  statesman,  or  a 
preacher,  or  a  military  commander,  or,  indeed,  an 
athlete,  he  seemed  to  have  every  quality  on  hand 
necessary  to  success.  And  this,  I  think,  is  the  im- 
pression of  him  that  every  reader  of  his  noble  story 
will  have  received. 

"  When  he  fights  a  college  boat-race  at  Worcester, 
or  the  sea  at  Hatteras  Inlet,  or  the  enemy  at  New- 
Berne,  or  the  dreary  rigors  of  a  prison,  or  the  impos- 
sible rigors  of  an  escape,  it  makes  little  difference 
whether  he  is  successful  or  not ;  everybody  sees  that 
he  ought  to  be.  Finally  paroled  and  released,  after 

21 


322  THE    KNIGHTLY   SOLDIER. 

many  long  months  of  confinement,  he  returns  home 
on  a  short  furlough :  but  hearing,  only  five  days  after, 
that  he  had  been  exchanged,  he  tears  himself  away 
from  furlough  and  friends,  and  is  off*  in  two  hours' 
time  for  his  regiment;  and  he  joins  them  on  the  field 
of  battle,  welcomed  by  the  acclamations  of  the  men 
and  the  hearty  cheers  of  the  command.  Though  he 
has  a  nature  gentle  as  a  woman's,  he  is  yet  called  the 
Iron  Man ;  and  the  iron  property  was  abundantly 
shown  again  and  again,  wherever  that  kind  of  metal 
was  wanted.  His  regiment,  always  relied  on,  is  finally 
brought  up  in  two  lines  to  head  an  assault;  and  he  is 
purposely  set  on  the  wing  of  the  second  line,  that  he 
may  not  be  thrown  away.  Believing  that  the  assault 
must  be  an  utter  failure,  for  that  was  the  opinion  of 
all,  he  still  modestly  suggested,  that  he  might  be  put 
upon  the  forward  line!  and  there  he  fell,  riddled  with 
bullets,  only  not  to  see  the  general  massacre  of  the 
men.  Oh,  it  was  a  dark,  sad  day  that  cost  the  loss  of 
such  a  man! 

'  For  Lycidas  is  dead,  dead  ere  his  prime, 
Young  Lycidas,  and  hath  not  left  his  peer.' 

"  Little  does  it  signify  to  him,  though  much  to  us, 
that  his  memory  should  be  sanctified  by  some  endur- 
ing record." 

Nor  was  his  memory  left  unmarked  by  an  "endur- 
ing record."  Above  his  grave,  in  the  beautiful  Cedar 


A   MATCHLESS    KNIGHT. 


323 


Hill  Cemetery  at  Hartford,  an  elegant  monument  of 
granite  and  bronze  bears  this  simple  but  suggestive 
inscription : 

HENRY  WARD  CAMP, 

MAJOR  OF  THE  TENTH  CONNECTICUT  VOLUNTEERS. 

BORN  AT  HARTFORD,  CONN., 

Feb.  4,  1839. 

KILLED    IN    BATTLE,    BEFORE    RICHMOND,    VA., 

Oct.  13,  1864. 

"  A  true  knight : 
Not  yet  mature,  yet  matchless." 

Erected  by  his  fellow-citizens  of  Hartford  as  a  tribute  to  his 
patriotic  services  and  to  his  noble  Christian  character. 

And  a  life-size  portrait  of  the  hero -student  was 
given  a  place  of  prominence  in  Alumni  Hall  at  Yale. 


REPRESENTATIVE   ESTIMATES 

OF 

THE   KNIGHTLY  SOLDIER. 


From  HORACE  BUSHNELL,  D.D.,  LL.D. 

"  It  is  admirably  well  done.  I  was  a  little  anxious  lest  writing  so  much 
as  a  lover  you  might  flatter  your  subject  to  the  sense  of  some.  I  do  not 
see  that  you  have  done  it,  and  I  have  heard  no  such  criticism.  On  the 
contrary,  with  all  my  very  great  admiration  for  Camp,  he  is  a  good  deal 
raised  by  the  picture  you  have  given.  I  did  not  expect  so  much  vigor 
and  beauty  in  his  writings.  They  are  all  alive  with  marks  of  genius.  You 
have  shown  great  skill,  too,  in  putting  him  forward  to  speak  for  himself, 
instead  of  piling  encomiums  on  him.  What  young  man  ever  dashed  off 
the  matter  of  a  book  about  his  own  experience  and  action,  without  letting 
himself  down  to  some  kind  of  nonsense  !  On  the  whole,  I  come  out  in 
the  impression  that  our  dear  Major  was  the  most  wonderful  young  man 
it  has  ever  been  my  lot  to  know.  Oh,  if  he  could  have  lived  !  But  such 
kind  of  sighs  are  useless.  Let  us  rather  thank  God  that  he  has  lived." 

From  Maj.-Gen.  JOSHUA  L.  CHAMBERLAIN,  Governor  of  Maine. 

"  Chaplain  Trumbull's  labor  of  love  has  been  beautifully  and  nobly 
done.  The  story  touches  me  deeply.  I  know  how  to  appreciate  and 
feel  every  line  of  it.  When  the  regret  seizes  me,  for  a  moment,  that  such 
a  life  should  not  be  permitted  to  reach  its  full  measure  of  usefulness  and 
honor  here,  I  am  consoled  by  the  thought  that  the  life  thus  given  to  the 
world  lives  as  a  lesson  and  an  example  of  noble  Christian  manhood,  which 
will  tell  on  young  men  everywhere,  and  enter  into  the  character  of  the 
nation  itself,  and  bless  the  world  in  ways  we  cannot  see." 

From  Hon.  WILLIAM  A.  BUCKINGHAM,  Governor  of  Connecticut. 

"  '  The  Knightly  Soldier '  presents  the  character  of  one  of  the  bravest 
and  purest  Connecticut  soldiers  in  such  clear  and  attractive  colors,  that  I 


have  been  influenced  to  distribute  a  good  number  of  copies,  not  doubting 
that  young  men  who  read  them  will  in  consequence  appreciate  more 
highly  a  Christian  life." 


From  THEODORE  D.  WOOLSEY,  D.D.,  LL.D.,  President  of  Yale  College. 

"  Mr.  Camp  was  a  very  noble  young  man  while  here,  of  rare  honor 
and  uprightness.  He  had  just  the  stuff  in  him  of  which  the  staunchest 
men  are  made.  I  watched  his  course  with  interest  after  he  left  college 
until  his  too  early  death.  He  was  a  model  for  courage  and  conscientious- 
ness; and  such  a  life  distributed  among  young  men,  and  known  to  them, 
cannot  fail  to  do  good." 


From  A.   P.  PEABODY,  D.D.,  LL.D.,  Preacher  to  Harvard  University, 
and  Plummer  Professor  of  Christian  Morals. 

"  Young  Camp's  story  is  intensely  interesting,  and  you  have  told  it 
admirably,  with  equal  skill  and  effect  where  you  have  left  him  or  those 
who  knew  him  best  to  tell  it,  and  where  you  have  supplied  the  thread  of 
narrative.  I  hope  that  the  work  will  have  wide  circulation  among  our 
young  men  of  liberal  culture,  for  it  presents  the  very  type  of  character 
which  I  would  have  constantly  in  their  view,  and  which,  so  far  as  they 
adopt  it  for  their  own,  will  make  them  living  sacrifices  to  the  cause  of 
country,  freedom,  and  humanity,  for  which  so  many  that  have  gone  but  a 
little  before  them  were  made  dying  sacrifices." 


From  ANDREW  D.  WHITE,  LL.D.,  President  of  Cornell  University. 

"  It  is  a  beautiful  and  noble  tribute  to  a  beautiful  and  noble  man. 
As  a  piece  of  biographical  literature,  as  material  for  the  future  history  of 
the  great  revolution  through  which  we  have  just  passed, — and,  still  more, 
as  a  work  to  strengthen  us  all  for  good  in  these  great  days,  it  is  a  con- 
tribution for  which  you  deserve  the  thanks  of  every  true  man.  But 
especially  it  is  of  value  in  giving  to  owe  young  men  a  better  ideal  than  that 
which  is  presented  them  in  the  great  centers  of  our  civilization.  In 
these  days  when  successful  scoundrelism  is  paraded  before  our  young  men 
until  there  is  danger  of  their  demoralization,  it  is  a  good  thing  indeed  to 
show  them  this  soldier-scholar,  studying,  fighting,  dying  for  his  country, — 
and  earning  a  name  which  shall  brighten  while  that  of  the  successful 
scoundrel  shall  rot." 


From  J.  B.  ANGELL,  D.D.,  LL.D.,   President  of  the  University  of  Ver- 
mont {afterwards  President  of  the  University  of  Michigan). 

"  It  is  one  of  the  finest  specimens  of  a  most  valuable  class  of  books. 
Religion  thus  fashioning  the  beautiful  life  of  a  young  man,  must  commend 
itself  to  all  young  men  who  read  this  sketch  of  Major  Camp.  I  trust  it 
may  be  widely  circulated.  It  certainly  will  be,  if  all  the  copies  issued  are 
so  eagerly  sought  as  mine  is  by  my  young  friends,  to  whom  I  have  com- 
mended it." 

From  Maj.-Gen.  JOSEPH  R.  HAWLEY,  LL.D. 

"  'The  better  the  man,  the  better  the  soldier,"  you  and  I  have  always 
believed,  and  Major  Camp  was  one  of  our  best  arguments.  What  might 
he  not  have  become  had  he  been  spared  to  the  allotted  threescore  and 
ten  !  Yet  it  is  a  magnificently  rounded  life,  crowned  by  a  glorious  death ; 
and  perhaps,  by  the  aid  of  this  loving  yet  just  memoir,  he  will  teach  more 
young  men  than  if  he  had  been  fifty  years  a  professor  or  a  preacher." 

From  JOHN  S.  C.  ABBOTT,  D.D. 

"  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  it  is  an  exquisite  book.  It  is  the  story 
of  a  noble  life,  most  beautifully  told.  ...  I  know  not  when  I  have  seen  a 
book  which  has  pleased  me  so  much.  It  surely  must  have  a  wide  sale; 
and  wherever  it  goes  it  will  confer  great  pleasure,  and  do  great  good." 

From  LEONARD  WOOLSEY  BACON,  D.D. 

"  It  is  the  best  book  of  the  sort  that  I  have  ever  read.  Never  before 
have  I  so  lived  a  soldier's  life  and  entered  into  its  marvelous  excitements, 
as  in  following  the  story  of  Major  Camp.  I  have  hardly  known  which  of 
the  two  friends  most  to  congratulate  on  the  friendship  of  the  other, — 
whether  to  count  you  happy  in  having  such  a  subject,  or  him  in  having 
such  a  friend  for  a  biographer." 


From  The  Nation. 

"  Whoever  reads  this  life  of  Henry  Camp  can  hardly  fail  to  have  his 
faith  in  men  strengthened,  and  all  his  good  impulses  quickened.  There  is 
electricity  in  good  and  great  lives,  that  makes  their  contact  healthful  and  in- 
vigorating, and  we  commend  this  book  to  all  people  who  lead  little,  and 


poor,  and  doubting  lives,  as  an  excellent  tonic.  The  biography  is  written 
by  one  who  was  the  closest  friend  of  this  '  Knightly  Soldier  '  in  his  life,  and 
who  after  his  death  celebrates  his  goodness  and  bravery  discreetly  and 
well.  Indeed,  Camp  is  for  the  most  part  suffered  to  tell  his  own  story, 
and  to  reveal  his  own  character  in  the  constant  extracts  from  his  corre- 
spondence, from  the  letters  to  his  family  and  to  friends,  in  which  he  ex- 
presses himself  always  with  easy  and  graphic  effect,  and  with  an  unreserve 
and  unconsciousness  of  great  value  to  the  reader.  One  learns  much  from 
this  book  which  one  cares  to  know  of  the  feeling  of  men  in  battle  and  the 
dangers  of  the  war,  as  well  as  those  objective  phases  of  a  soldier's  life  with 
which  books  more  commonly  make  us  acquainted.  The  hero  has  nothing 
morbidly  introspective  in  his  nature  ;  but  he  made  that  study  of  himself  in 
the  experiences  of  combat,  of  prison,  and  of  flight,  which  would  naturally 
employ  the  thoughts  of  a  man  of  quick  intelligence,  and  he  modestly  and 
unambitiously  noted  the  result  in  the  familiar  letters  here  given.  Much 
that  he  wrote  is  now  also  valuable  as  a  contribution  to  the  history  of  events 
of  which  he  was  part ;  but  it  has  chiefly  the  moral  and  esthetic  uses  to 
which  we  have  alluded." 


From  the  New  York  Tribune. 

"  Among  the  noble  American  young  men,  whose  blood  has  moistened 
the  battle-fields  of  freedom,  none  have  left  a  more  honorable  memorial  of 
gallant  deeds  and  a  pure  and  beautiful  character,  than  the  subject  of  this 
biography.  .  .  .  His  conduct  as  a  soldier  was  the  crown  and  fulfilment  of 
his  early  promise.  He  exhibited  all  the  graces  of  manly  valor,  loyalty, 
and  generous  impulse.  All  who  knew  him  in  the  army  deemed  him  '  the 
bright,  consummate  flower  '  of  heroic  youth.  .  .  .  The  intimate  and  tender 
friendship  between  Major  Camp  and  the  author  of  the  volume  kindles  the 
details  of  his  life  with  a  glow  of  emotion  ;  but  leads  to  no  excess  of  eulo- 
gium,  or  such  highly  colored  portraiture,  as  repel  the  sympathy  of  the 
reader. 


From  the  Boston  Daily  Advertiser. 

"  His  biographer  is  the  chaplain  of  the  same  regiment,  between  whom 
and  Camp  there  existed  a  friendship,  romantic,  tender,  and  strong,  as 
that  of  David  and  Jonathan.  He  has  written  a  book  which,  tremulous  in 
every  line  with  affection  and  sorrow,  is  yet  eminently  readable,  and  takes 
its  place  in  the  front  rank  of  the  many  stories  of  individual  heroism  to 
which  the  war  has  given  birth.  The  style  is  that  of  admirable  simplicity  ; 


the  subject  so  noble  that  no  reader  can  avoid  sharing  all  the  author's  en- 
thusiasm ;  and  the  copious  extracts  from  Adjutant  Camp's  own  letters 
from  the  field  are  chosen  so  judiciously  as  to  add  a  new  and  peculiar 
charm  to  the  book." 


From  the  Philadelphia  North  American. 

"  A  biography  of  rare  interest, — a  story  that  chronicles  the  life  of  an 
ardent  young  soldier,  true  to  God  and  his  country,  who  seems  to  have 
emulated  the  best  models  of  nobility  in  all  respects.  It  is  but  one  in  a 
thousand  of  similar  biographies,  and  gives  but  one  exemplification  of 
those  virtues  that  have  been  the  salt  of  the  Union ;  but  it  gives  them  so 
simply  and  straightforwardly  that  they  will  be  believed  like  history.  The 
story  is  well  told,  and  was  well  worth  the  telling." 

From  the  Army  and  Navy  Journal. 

"  Next  to  the  immortal  martyrs  of  this  war,  whose  lives,  all  too  short, 
have  told  comrades  and  country  how  best  to  intertwine  the  perfect  graces 
of  scholar,  soldier,  gentleman,  Christian,  come  those  who,  with  patient, 
loving,  modest,  self-denying  hands,  pen  a  fitting  memorial  of  them. 
This  present  volume  is  the  record  of  a  true  and  loyal  soul,  a  '  knightly 
soldier  '  in  deed  and  in  truth.  He  was  an  idolized  officer  of  one  of  the 
most  famous  and  useful  regiments  in  all  the  volunteer  army — one  which, 
from  personal  knowledge  and  observation  of  its  exploits  in  some  of  the 
scenes  recorded  in  this  book,  we  can  pronounce  to  be  brave  among  the 
bravest." 

From  Allibones  Dictionary  of  Authors. 

"  An  admirable  portrait  of  an  admirable  man." 


THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  SANTA  CRUZ 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  DATE  stamped  below. 


100m-8,'65(F6282s8)2373 


E601.C19 


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